


Encompassed in Glass

by TheFairieQueen



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Elements, Drama, Eventual Romance, M/M, Slow Burn, Snow White Elements, fairytale AU, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:44:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 199,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairieQueen/pseuds/TheFairieQueen
Summary: In a land where innocence is used to fend off akuma, exorcists serve royal families, and trust is fragile.  When a prince unknowingly becomes a part of a plot to break this trust, he is forced to flee - but perhaps he has a chance of survival, with the help of a few rogue exorcists.  (Fairytale/Snow White-inspired AU)





	1. Prologue: Seed of Desire

It was cool in the chamber. Cool, and spacious; it was a vast room, and circular in its structure. The walls were made of some kind of stone.  They were dark, and polished so smoothly that they almost created a clear reflection of anyone who looked closely enough: like glistening obsidian. The ceiling stretched high above, as it coiffured upward. Its pattern only ceased when it reached the center, in which a circular mosaic was depicted: a deep blue background, inky enough to be close to black.  
  
In the center, a silver rose cross was depicted.  
  
The chamber was not silent, though; often it was, but not on this day.   One by one, people were beginning to enter into the room – royals, mostly. The royals who made up the council.  
  
Bookman shifted quietly, as he lingered closely to the wall as he watched the nobles enter. The council only occurred once a year; it was a time when the royal families would meet to discuss only the most dire of topics, and what warranted the most immediate attention.  
  
Already, Bookman knew what they would be discussing. It was no secret to him, as nothing ever was.  
  
There was the sound of footsteps approaching, though Bookman didn’t need to turn to know that the individual in question was approaching him. He could even tell who it was in his peripheral vision – his eyes keen despite the bags that hung below them, dark and worn in appearance.  
  
“Bookman,” The voice greeted.  
  
“Zuu,” Bookman replied, knowing the speaker immediately.  
  
Zuu Mei Chang: the current head of the Chang Clan, and one of the noble families who came from the farther east, and the country of Ying. An older man, Zuu’s head was partly shaved, with only the back left as it was pulled into a low, colorless ponytail. A monocle covered one eye as his skin hung with wrinkles – some the product of age, and others the product of stress, and on his forehead was a peculiar diamond-shaped tattoo.  
  
Magic. Sorcery. The markings of the Chang Clan were always recognizable to Bookman.  
  
Bookman’s eyes flickered over to the center of the chamber, which contained a large circular table. Where the Chang Clan typically sat, there was already a woman with dark hair and steel-colored eyes.  
  
“I see you brought your daughter as always,” Bookman observed.  
  
“It’s good she’s involved,” Zuu spoke. “Not as though I’ll be here forever.”  
  
Bookman didn’t comment further on the subject, and instead returned his attention to the other attendees. Sahlins Epstein, whose family hailed from the frigid country of Bovia in the north, and Malcolm C. Lvellier, who ruled over the country of Lyons which was the most centrally-located of the kingdoms – and thus, their current meeting location for the council.  
  
Finally, Bookman noticed another noble: Tricia Karma, from Engelus.  
  
“I wondered if Tricia might have sent a representative in her place,” Zuu spoke, before Bookman could say anything. “To my understanding, she’s still been in mourning over her husband’s death.”  
  
Bookman’s mouth remained in a thin, tight line. Mourning was not always something that warranted an excuse for one’s absence. But, Bookman did not wish to engage in any discourse at that moment.  
  
However, Bookman did notice the queen’s…tired appearance. Tricia was still young, with fair hair and a pale complexion. The lack of rosiness to her cheeks was telling though, and she was dressed conservatively in dark colors.  
  
Yes, she was still in mourning indeed. Bookman could see that much.  
  
“Perhaps you should give your condolences if it’s on your mind,” Bookman suggested, though his tone held a distant edge to it.  
  
“Interesting suggestion coming from yourself,” Zuu replied.  
  
Bookman almost felt the corner of his lip turn upward. Almost.  
  
As the time for the council to begin drew near, Bookman continued to watch. There were five royal families total, each from a different kingdom to act as representation on the council. So far, Bookman had counted only four being represented though.  
  
The fifth royal family was the Campbells – those from the northwest kingdom of Arcaia.  
  
Zuu apparently had also taken notice of the fifth family’s lack of representation. “Do you know of anyone representing the Campbell House?”  
  
Bookman thought, before answering. “The king is ill. As far as I know, a representative will come in place.”  
  
Zuu nodded. “Hopefully they show soon then,” He spoke, before giving Bookman a final nod and going to where Twi was.  
  
There was only a few minutes more, but soon everyone was seated. At the doors, several guards in red hoods with covered faces remained: the CROWs.  
  
It was at this time Bookman could hear something of a commotion at the entrance, to which he turned, eyes keen and alert.  
  
“You’re not permitted entry,” One of the CROWs was snapping, tone harsh and weighed with a molten edge.  
  
“I apologize – you must be misinformed,” Another voice replied, cool and smooth like polished marble. “I’m here on behalf of his majesty from Arcaia.”  
  
By this point, Bookman had walked over. He could see the speaker just beyond the CROWs. A tall man, with pale skin and sharp, angular features. Long black hair that was slicked back, and dark eyes.  
  
Bookman recognized him easily enough.  
  
“He was expected,” Bookman clipped.  
  
The CROWs seemed a bit taken aback by this, but when Bookman didn’t waver they stood down.  
  
Bookman took the chance to greet the man. “I see you’re still acting as representative, Sheril.”  
  
Sheril smiled, and his eyes gleamed like cool obsidian. “I do what I can to serve my king.”  
  
A comment lingered on the tip of Bookman’s tongue, though he neglected to speak it. “They’re about to begin. You should get seated,” The shorter man instead spoke, before going to his own seat, just to the left of Zuu.  
  
A curt nod in Bookman’s direction, Sheril didn’t linger. The nobleman walked over to the circular table to take his seat, eyes briefly skimming over the other attendees.  
  
Sheril’s gaze lingered on Tricia all but for a second before then moving away.  
  
“Since we’re all here, we’ll begin,” Lvellier started, as he addressed the council. “It’s been a year since we last met, and as of now only two pieces of innocence have been located.”  
  
Twi spoke. “Do we know if either of them are the heart?”  
  
The room was silent, and Lvellier paused. “No,” He answered. “Neither are the heart as far as we can tell, but then we can’t be certain of how to distinguish it. Which is why it’s imperative we keep locating pieces.”  
  
Sahlins looked up. “How many pieces are accounted for now?”  
  
“Currently 38. 15 of those pieces have synchronized with accommodators,” Bookman answered. “At least that we know of.”  
  
Sheril’s gaze shifted, as he brushed his fingers across his chin. His eyes never remained on any single royal for too long, but he watched carefully for the expressions of the council members. “And how do we know when these accommodators synchronize?” He asked. “Is it only when we send out someone to investigate… _unusual_ activity?”  
  
He continued to watch, and seeing he had the attention of everyone Sheril continued. “Or is there a chance we might be overlooking something…?”  
  
Lvellier frowned, his brow pinching together. “Just what are you implying exactly?”  
  
The edge in Lvellier’s words was prominent, and Sheril could feel the corners of his mouth threaten to upturn. But, Sheril kept his expression neutral, leaning back in his chair. “I’m only stating the obvious. Exorcists or not, they’re still people,” He explained. “They might be a bit hesitant to come forward if they know the power they’re wielding.”  
  
“This isn’t some game. Nearly all of the accommodators found have expressed an understanding of how severe it is they do their duty as exorcists,” Twi countered.  
  
“Nearly all,” Sheril repeated. “And what of the ones who didn’t?”  
  
“Enough,” Zuu spoke. “We didn’t come here to argue.”  
  
“I only was suggesting we be a bit more thorough in locating accommodators. Sometimes that means anticipating the worst,” Sheril stated, though it didn’t appear as he intended to say more.  
  
There was a tense moment in the room, and no one spoke right away. But, Sahlins eventually broke the silence. “Perhaps Sheril has a point,” Sahlins began, though his voice held a hint of wariness. “We may need to take precautions to ensure exorcists don’t abandon their duties. It’s not as though it hasn’t happened before.”  
  
For the first time since the meeting started, Tricia glanced at everyone, eyes more alert. “The exorcists are already loyal, and know the weight of the situation. Pushing them further will only cause complications.”  
  
As Tricia said this, her focus landed on Sheril. However, she could not allow her gaze to linger for long. Unexpectedly, Sheril’s eyes had raised upward, meeting her own with a startling energy that was nothing short of electrifying.  
  
Tricia was quick to look away.  
  
“The loyalty of a few isn’t a guarantee the rest will always do the same,” Sahlins reiterated. “Just because there have barely been any akuma sightings in the past several years doesn’t meant we’re in a position to be lax.“  
  
“Sahlins,” Lvellier cut in, quieting the other man before anything further could escalate. “It seems this is something we do need to consider, but for now it may be in our best interest to merely keep an eye on things.”  
  
Lvellier paused. “The Noah, as you all know, have not been seen in over 40 years. We still need to anticipate they may one day return, but for now in handling exorcists each kingdom can do so how they see fit – as we have been doing,” He spoke. “If anything problematic appears to be arising, we will determine how to best address it from there. We can’t risk losing what few exorcists we already have, so we will do as necessary.”  
  
No one said anything immediately, but there were a few nods of agreement.  
  
Tricia was one of the few who made no movement, instead looking a little uneasy. The hair on her neck seemed to stand for some unknown reason, and her nerves – possibly from the stress of everything – felt as though they were shakier than normal.  
  
Tricia also thought she felt someone’s eyes on her, but perhaps that was only in her head as well.  
  


* * *

  
  
Once the council had adjourned, Tricia hadn’t remained. She had been polite of course in saying her goodbyes before excusing herself, but the journey back to Engelus from Lyons would be somewhat tedious – at least two days worth of traveling, if there was no stopping. Tricia doubted she would be so fortunate.  
  
“Please prepare the carriage immediately.   I’d like to return home as quickly as possible,” Tricia requested, as she found one of the servants. The servant nodded, before rushing off to ensure everything would be ready soon.  
  
Tricia exhaled. The council was necessary – it always was, and there was never any avoiding it. But between the traveling, the politics, and her husband’s passing…  
  
Quickly, Tricia attempted to repress the swell of an ache that threatened to crack apart her already weakened heart. It had been months since the late king had passed away due to a hunting accident – almost eight.  
  
Typically, six was how long a royal may spend in mourning at most, but Tricia knew she had already been going on longer than normal with her grieving. But, how could she move on? The late king had in truth been the only man Tricia had ever been with romantically. The marriage had been more politically arranged, but their union had been happy, and Tricia had _loved_ the late king. Painfully so.  
  
Tricia couldn’t let the pain prevent her from completely functioning though. She knew she had a role to fill, and an obligation to the kingdom. To the council. To her _son_.  
  
_‘Home. Focus on returning home,’_ Tricia tried to tell herself. Yes, once she returned home, it would be fine. She would busy herself would the routine duties of a ruling queen, and bury her pain.  
  
Someone was approaching back from down the hall. The footsteps echoed in Tricia’s ears, but she didn’t immediately think much of it – perhaps it was a servant. But whoever it was stopped just beside Tricia, causing her to turn.  
  
When she did, she saw that it was Sheril who had approached her, a charming smile on his lips.  
  
“Queen Tricia,” Sheril greeted.   “You left so quickly after the meeting.”  
  
The tone in Sheril’s voice was conversational, though Tricia found her defenses raising. Her tiredness wasn’t helping. “I didn’t believe my presence was further required when it ended.”  
  
Sheril shook his head. “Ah, no, of course not,” He spoke, quick to amend any misinterpretation the queen was making. “I only wanted to say I hope it wasn’t my words that put you off during the council. I know my remarks might have come off as rather…straightforward.”  
  
Seeing what Sheril was talking about, Tricia felt herself relax when she realized that it had not been a personal accusation he had been implying. “No, it wasn’t that at all. Straightforwardness is sometimes needed in these meetings,” Tricia said softly.  
  
“You appear quite fond of your exorcists,” Sheril noted with mild interest. “I will say it’s quite reassuring the level of confidence you have in their loyalty.”  
  
“Yes, they are good people. Dutiful,” Tricia reiterated. “They’ve been incredibly supportive in the last few months especially, and I trust them.”  
  
A contemplative looked washed over Sheril’s expression, and his lips pressed together thoughtfully. “I imagine these last few months have been difficult for you,” Sheril spoke. “Do forgive me for not having sent my condolences sooner – I know it must have been quite difficult for you given King Victor’s untimely departure.”  
  
The name was a sting, but Tricia tried not to flinch. She nodded. “It has. It’s why I’d like to make the best of my time and return sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Of course,” Sheril spoke in understanding. He paused, before then adding, “You have your son as well, correct?”  
  
“That’s correct. He’s in good hands, but I’d rather not leave him alone for long.”  
  
“He’s fortunate to have such a caring mother.”  
  
The words, though evidently a compliment, were no easier to swallow through Tricia’s ears. Not that Tricia didn’t care – she cared for and loved her son deeply. However…  
  
“It’s like looking at a ghost. He looks so much like his father,” Tricia spoke, the words slipping from her lips softly – almost like the gentleness of a snowfall.  
  
Sheril said nothing, causing a silence to fall between them. When this occurred, Tricia realized that she had made a mistake.  
  
“I’m sorry – this isn’t appropriate to be discussing,” Tricia apologized. Sheril may have been from an ally kingdom, but the queen knew that there were still boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, and discussing her emotions regarding her son and deceased husband was certainly one of those topics to be kept aside.  
  
Sheril’s eyes lingered on Tricia, expression composed. He watched carefully how Tricia’s body posture was: still prideful, yet her shoulders seemed heavily weighed down by something invisible, and her eyes were faint and colored with wear.  
  
She was tired, and she was vulnerable. Grief had weakened Tricia, and had caused what may have once been a light within her to diminish.  
  
Sheril bit back a sigh. In many ways, it was a shame.  
  
Many, but not all.  
  
“You shouldn’t have to apologize for your feelings. You’ve been through a great deal,” Sheril offered, his words both validating and comforting. He knew such when he saw Tricia look up, and the somewhat relieved look appear in her eyes.  
  
Weak. Weak, and tired, and lonely. Sheril recognized all of those things in Tricia.  
  
A small smile painted Tricia’s lips, for a brief moment returning her natural loveliness to her. “Thank you, Sheril. That’s considerate of you to say.”  
  
Sheril returned the smile, as his eyes gleamed. After a small pause, he then chanced a suggestion. “Arcaia borders Engelus,” He started, still somewhat conscientious of the way in which he was about to phrase his words. “If you’d like, perhaps I may accompany you back? It may make venturing back a bit more bearable.”  
  
The suggestion was a bold one, and one that would typically not be made. Sheril was aware of this, and even more so given that before now he had hardly ever interacted with Tricia directly.  
  
However, Tricia did not appear immediately put-off by the idea. Surprise did flicker in her light blue eyes, as she evidently had not anticipated the offer.  
  
After a moment, Tricia nodded. “Yes…yes, actually that would be quite lovely.”  
  
Sheril’s smile broadened as he heard the answer. “Excellent,” Sheril said, “I’m sure it’ll be very lovely indeed.”  
  


* * *

  
  
_Thwack._  
  
Alma frowned, and looked up. The arrow he had just shot had hit into the tree bark, not _exactly_ where he had wanted it to – he had been aiming for one of the apples growing off the branches, which were red and bright in the sunlight.  
  
Taking a small breath, Alma re-adjusted his bow. It was a bit awkward to do so, since it wasn’t _quite_ made for someone of his stature. He was only eight, and had just started practicing archery recently. Not often though, and never without adult supervision.  
  
Not that he had any adult supervision now. But that was beside the point.  
  
Brow furrowed in concentration, Alma stood back a fair distance from the tree. He focused on the stem just above one of the apples, and attempted to steady his aim just before releasing the arrow.  
  
Alma let go, and the arrow flew. It hit the base of the tree.  
  
Alma’s face fell in disappointment.  
  
Defeated, the child went over to the tree, and started to pull out the arrow. He pulled the one out from the base of the tree, but stopped when he saw where the other one had gone. It was higher up, and out of Alma’s reach.  
  
Well, that was no problem. Spying a branch that was slightly lower than the rest, Alma jumped to grab it. His feet just barely dangled across the ground, but Alma swung, catching his foot into a small but prominent enough groove in the tree bark so he could hoist himself upward.  
  
Once Alma knew he was secure, he lifted himself up onto the branch. He still couldn’t quite reach it though, and would have to stand on another branch. Steadily, Alma climbed a few more branches, doing his best to keep his balance as he reached for the arrow-  
  
There was a sudden, shrill _chattering_ noise, and Alma’s concentration broke. Quickly, he gripped the tree bark as he barely managed to avoid falling, eyes wide as he nearly stumbled.  
  
Alma remained still, too nervous to move until he was confident he wasn’t going to tumble out of the tree. When he knew he would be fine, he turned to look at the source of the noise hesitantly,  
  
Just a few feet back was a woman, with somewhat long, blonde hair that was partially tied back. Her hair covered a portion of her face, but the markings of an X-shaped scar could be seen.  
  
On her shoulder, there sat a white monkey. Small, but prominent as it chattered again, tail swishing back and forth.  
  
Alma smiled sheepishly. “Hi, Klaud.”  
  
Klaud’s expression remained unreadable, though her eyes were peering. “Alma, why are you in that tree?” She asked, disapproval evident in her voice.  
  
Alma was quick to defend himself. “I had to get my arrow back!” He said, nudging his head in the direction of where the arrow was.  
  
Klaud’s eyes moved to the arrow, and she sighed before walking over to where Alma was. “Get down from there. The last thing we need is for you to fall again.”  
  
There was no need to go into detail, as Alma already knew what Klaud was referring to. Not too long ago, he had been climbing the same tree – though he had fallen, and accidentally gotten a scar across the bridge of his nose from it. Alma could still remember the head nurse scolding him, and saying how lucky he was he hadn’t broken anything.  
  
Alma sighed, knowing he couldn’t argue with Klaud. Very cautiously, he started to climb back down, taking a bit longer than it had to climb up.  
  
Once Alma was low enough, Klaud was able to take hold of him, and help the child down from the tree. As she did this, her monkey, Lau Shimin, jumped into the tree, climbing upward to where Alma had been trying to reach. The monkey wiggled the arrow out of the tree bark, returning down with it after.  
  
Klaud took the arrow, as Lau Shimin perched back on her shoulder.   “Interesting target,” She commented, as her eyes briefly moved to the apple tree before returning to Alma. “But you’re not supposed to be practicing without supervision. It’s not safe.”  
  
Alma pouted. “But everyone else was too _busy_ ,” He said. “And I wasn’t shooting around anyone, so no one would have gotten hurt…”  
  
Klaud didn’t comment back immediately, but eyed Alma. Gently, she then took the bow away from him. “Rules are rules, and I think you’ve had enough target practice for today,” Klaud affirmed sternly.  
  
Alma’s face scrunched up in a disappointment, but he knew he couldn’t argue with Klaud. When Klaud made a decision, she _always_ stuck by it. “Can I practice later? Please?”  
  
“Mm,” Klaud hummed. “Maybe if you behave. If not we’ll wait until tomorrow.”  
  
Seeing the rather downtrodden way Alma’s shoulders slumped, Klaud then added, “If you _really_ behave, I’ll show you some tricks to improve your aim. You have to earn it though.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma looked up, large eyes brightening. “Okay!” He piped excitedly, expression beaming.  
  
Before Klaud could say anything else, one of the servants could be heard from inside the castle. “The queen’s back!”  
  
Alma’s attention was instantly captured. “Mother’s back!” He exclaimed, before rushing off past Klaud. “I’m going to go say hi!”

  
Since they had been in the inner courtyard, Alma had needed to cut through the castle to make it to the front entrance, where his mother would have been arriving. He almost collided with a few of the servants on occasion, barely dodging them as he darted through the halls quickly. But, no one was hurt, and soon Alma had made it to the front where he could see his mother’s carriage had already arrived.  
  
One of the footmen was just opening the door when Alma made it. Alma watched, but then to his surprise someone else came out of the carriage. Someone he had never seen before.  
  
Alma faltered, blinking his large eyes in confusion. He had been ready to run up to the carriage, but immediately froze up. It was a man who had gotten out, and no one that Alma recognized – who was he? He was dressed very nicely, so Alma knew he was noble at the very least. But, that was all.  
  
The man did not seem to take any notice of Alma, and instead helped out the next occupant of the carriage – this time, someone Alma did recognize.  
  
The hesitancy in Alma’s expression evaporated, and once more excitement overtook him. Without thinking twice, the child ran over. “Mom!” He shouted happily, wrapping his arms around the woman, as he looked up at her “Did you have a good trip? How was it?”  
  
Tricia looked down, a little taken aback by her son’s swift appearance, but smiling gently all the same despite the hesitancy in her eyes. “Alma,” She admonished softly, “You shouldn’t act so informally in front of visitors – it isn’t polite.”  
  
Alma paused, before again glancing over at the stranger. Instinctively, he felt the urge to hang even closer to his mother. Alma couldn’t quite explain it, but something about the man made him…nervous.  
  
The man smiled. “That’s quite alright,” He reassured Tricia.  
  
Tricia seemed eased by this, and looked back at Alma. “Alma, this is Sheril Kamelot. He accompanied back from Lyons since he was returning to Arcaia,” She introduced, before turning to one of the attendants. “Sheril will be staying for the night, so please see that he has a room prepared.”  
  
The attendant nodded, before turning to start preparations.  
  
“You really don’t have to trouble yourself if it’s too much-“ Sheril began to say.  
  
Tricia shook her head. “No, no – please, you shouldn’t travel straight through, and it’s no trouble at all,” She reassured, a small smile on her face.  
  
Alma glanced between the two adults, still remaining quiet. Usually, he was more talkative, but at that moment he felt oddly shy and his voice seemed to lock up in his throat. He didn’t really understand why – strangers could be intimidating, but he didn’t usually lock up _this_ much.  
  
Tricia glanced back at Alma.   She noticed the boy’s disheveled appearance before speaking. “Alma, why don’t you go in and clean up a bit?”  
  
Alma looked up hopefully. “Do you want to walk back with me?” He asked. “I can tell you about my archery practice! I’ve been working really hard so I can be good like dad was!”  
  
The words, though innocent, were cutting to Tricia’s ears. She wavered, then shook her head. “I need to discuss a few things with Sheril, but we’ll catch up soon, alright? You can tell me then.”  
  
Alma’s face fell a bit, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he simply nodded his head.  
  
Tricia smiled kindly. “Run along now. I’ll see you soon.”  
  
Alma smiled back meekly in response. He chanced one final glance in Sheril’s direction also, before turning and running back into the castle, and out of sight.  
  


* * *

  
Night fell. Like a dark, soundless blanket it covered the earth as it appeared to beckon the world to sleep, gentle and lulling. The castle itself had grown incredibly quiet, with all occupants already retiring for the night. Only the guards remained, still and silent as they kept watch – though even they appeared to be have fallen into a state of calm.  
  
Tricia was awake, though. She was awake, and restless.  
  
It wasn’t abnormal. Her sleep had not been regular ever since her husband had passed away, as her dreams were often poisoned with painful memories and torturous longings.  
  
Stupid. Foolish. Tricia knew there was no point in dwelling on those desires; they were wishes that would forever be left unfulfilled, and they were ghostly echoes of something that had long since perished. There was no hope in recovering those gentle touches, or listening to that enchanting laugh. The eyes that she had fallen in love with, and the smile she still dreamt of would never be present in her life again.  
  
_‘No,’_ She realized – no, they would. She could see those eyes and that smile in Alma, but that was often more painful than she cared to admit.  
  
It was terrible, and Tricia knew she was anything but a good mother because of it. It wasn’t her son’s fault that he resembled his father so much, and it wasn’t his fault that every time she looked at the boy she saw _him_ instead. Tricia had honestly dreaded it when Alma started to show such an active interest in archery as well; Alma already favored his father to such a heart-wrenching degree. Had he really needed to take up the same sport as well?  
  
Shakily, Tricia tried to steady her breathing. She knew she was only upsetting herself by thinking such things, as she often did during the nights. It wasn’t healthy, and she needed to preoccupy herself with something else.  
  
Glancing at the time, Tricia saw that by now nearly everyone would have been asleep. She hadn’t changed into her night clothes yet, so if anything Tricia figured it might have been a nice time to go for a walk and clear her head.  
  
She left her chambers, closing the door behind her quietly. As she had anticipated, the halls were dark and silent – devoid of the daily chaos that so often preoccupied them. For this, Tricia was grateful. The servants were always good and courteous, only doing their best to do a good job. However, sometimes everything was so overwhelming, and Tricia just needed an _escape_.  
  
Something. Anything. Just an escape.  
  
The queen continued to walk, not going in any particular direction. She more or less was just wandering around, not even paying that much attention to her surroundings. Her thoughts were already so fractured and jumbled that Tricia hardly had the energy to do _that_ much.  
  
Eventually, Tricia realized that she was heading to the courtyard, and upon exiting outside she felt the cool air brush against her skin, crisp and refreshing. The taste of an early fall seemed to linger, with was deliciously soothing as it pooled into her lungs.  
  
Tricia stopped just a few steps short of the apple tree. Even in the moonlight, she could make out the faint notches in the bark, as though an arrow had pierced it. She briefly wondered if it had been her son’s doing – not that she would have been surprised. Victor had been so good with his aim that he used to be able to even shoot the stems of apples off that tree, which Alma had always enjoyed watching. Tricia could only imagine Alma was probably attempting the same trick despite being so young.  
  
Suddenly, Tricia wanted to leave. She didn’t want to be around that apple tree, and she didn’t want to be in that courtyard.  
  
She didn’t want to be anywhere that made her remember.  
  
Turning, Tricia retreated back into the castle. She could feel sleep weighing on her shoulders, and her eyelids were heavy.  
  
_‘Just go back to your room. Go to bed,’_ Tricia told herself, as she started to backtrack through the halls and to where the chambers were. Time seemed to drag though, as her vision blurred and weariness seemed to hang on her even more. Had she always been this tired?  
  
Of course she had. Tricia was always tired. Always weak.  
  
The queen was close, though, and almost to her room. _‘Almost there…’_  
  
Tricia’s vision continued to blur into haziness. Faintly, she thought she heard a door open, and someone say her name.  
  
But, before Tricia could recognize the voice, everything went black, and she collapsed to the ground.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Tricia had no idea what had happened. No idea at all.  
  
After she had lost consciousness, Tricia had lost all sense of what was occurring around her. She thought she had felt someone pick her up, though a part of her imagined it may have been a dream of sorts; she was too disoriented to really tell. She did not hear any voices, and it was a peaceful darkness that encompassed her: silent, and without the stress of awareness. Safe. Isolated.  
  
When Tricia woke up, she was in her bed.  
  
She had not slept for long, it seemed; she could tell not only by how tired she still felt, but the time that showed on the clock – which read that it was just half past midnight. When she had left her bedchambers, it had been half past eleven.  
  
Tricia stirred, sitting up. She was still fully clothed.  
  
“Don’t sit up too quickly,” A familiar voice advised. “You may faint again.”  
  
Tricia turned. To her surprise, it was Sheril who was there with her, seated beside the bed.  
  
“What happened?” Tricia asked.  
  
“I heard someone in the hall, and when I went to check I saw it was you,” Sheril answered. “But you fainted, and I couldn’t find anyone right away. Eventually, I came across the guards and they directed me to your room.”  
  
Sheril paused, before adding. “They offered to get someone else to take you, but I told them I’d feel more at ease doing so myself. I know that may be a bit unorthodox.”  
  
Tricia’s face flushed slightly in embarrassment. “You shouldn’t have had to do that-“ She started, not quite sure how she felt about Sheril having brought her back to her chambers of all places.  
  
“Please, it at least gave me some peace of mind if anything,” Sheril offered, as he gave a small smile. “But I understand this may seem rather…odd. I can leave you be now.”  
  
For whatever reason, the notion was one that did not sit well with Tricia. “No,” She began, almost too quickly. “No…please, do not worry about it. I wouldn’t mind the company a few moments longer.”  
  
Sheril’s smile only deepened at this. “So long as that is your desire.”  
  
Tricia was silent for a bit, and averted her pale eyes. “You must find me a sorry sight given all you’ve seen so far.”  
  
Sheril’s eyes rested on Tricia. Once again, his facial expression was somewhat unreadable, though there was a strangely calculating look to his eyes – cool, and filled with even a little intrigue.  
  
Gingerly, he placed a hand on Tricia’s.  
  
The touch was startling, and Tricia may have even flinched had she not been so tired. But there was an alluring sensation that followed, and something akin to an invisible thread seemed to pull her face, directing it so she was looking at Sheril.  
  
Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes met his.  
  
Sheril held her gaze, like a flower imprisoned in glass. “Not at all,” He spoke, his words a gentle whisper.  
  
Melodic. Lulling.  
  
Before Tricia could even process what was happening, she felt herself lean in – or had Sheril leaned in first? Everything was still in a haze, yet with an eerie clarity Tricia somehow _knew_ what was happening. But she didn’t stop herself. She didn’t stop herself when she was close enough to feel Sheril’s breath on her skin, and she didn’t stop herself when their lips brushed against one another.  
  
Tricia didn’t stop herself, and for the first time in eight months she caved into her own desires.  
  


* * *

  
  
Morning came, but when it did something felt amiss. Alma couldn’t say what it was, but something felt _different_. Good or bad, he didn’t know – but it made Alma squirmish, and his usual need to burn off energy seemed even more prominent than normal.  
  
Bow and arrow in tow, Alma made his way through the halls of the castle. Klaud had promised to teach him some more archery, and he was looking forward to it. However, Alma had wanted to find his mother first. He had noticed that she had been absent for breakfast – which was strange, since Tricia was always present for such. But perhaps she had slept in more because she had traveled so much.  
  
This was what Alma told himself, anyways. The truth was that Alma had noticed his mother had been…distant, ever since his father had passed away. Not always, and she still would spend time with him. But the queen always seemed sad, and did not laugh much like she used to. It made Alma sad, too.  
  
Adjusting the sling over his shoulder, Alma turned the corner, heading toward where his mother’s room was. He hoped that maybe she would watch him practice with Klaud, if anything. Maybe it would even make his mother feel better if she saw how much Alma was beginning to improve with his archery…  
  
Alma stopped when he rounded the corner, freezing up. Walking in his direction, was Sheril.  
  
Alma tensed – again, unsure of why. He even debated on turning back quickly, but before he could do so, Sheril spotted him.  
  
“Alma,” Sheril spoke, as he smiled at the boy. “What are you doing down here?”  
  
Alma faltered a bit. “Um,” The child started, as he shifted uneasily, eyes downcast. “I…I was looking for my mom…”  
  
“Ah, well it seems your mother is quite worn out still from yesterday. It may be best to leave her be for now,” Sheril said as he took note of Alma’s bow. He then peered down, intending to make eye contact though the child was still looking away. “You wouldn’t want to cause her any additional distress, would you?”  
  
The question was rather unprecedented, and took Alma by surprised. Confused, he looked up, and was immediately pierced by Sheril’s sharp gaze.   “No…”  
  
“Good,” Sheril said, before smiling once more. “Why don’t you go play with your little bow elsewhere then?”  
  
Alma gripped his bow tightly, then without another word turned around as he darted off.  
  
Sheril watched as the child disappeared around the corner, before the door opened behind him. When he looked back, he saw Tricia standing in the doorway, still in her robe and nightdress.  
  
She glanced down the hall. “Who was it?”  
  
Sheril waved his hand dismissively. “No one. Just one of the maidservants wanting to check in,” He answered. “I let them know you just needed rest.”  
  
Tricia smiled in gratitude. “Thank you,” She said, though a look a concern flickered across her eyes. “Perhaps I should get dressed soon. I should check on Alma-“  
  
“Nonsense,” Sheril cut off, as he took Tricia’s hand. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Children are always so active anyways – I’m sure he’s preoccupied with something else even as we speak.”  
  
There was a bit of a resistance in Tricia, but she nodded. “Yes…you’re probably right.”  
  
Softly, her fingers interlocked into Sheril’s. “Sheril…” Tricia started. “I know you probably need to get back, and your king is expecting you, but…”  
  
The queen trailed off, not even all that certain of just what she was articulating. And yet she was certain – she was just struggling a bit. “But…you are welcome to stay. Or come back, if you’d ever like to.”  
  
The words were spoken quietly, yet there was a masked plea buried within them. Sheril could hear it as clear as a bell.  
  
Sheril ran his thumb over Tricia’s slender fingers in a soothing, circular motion. Then, with a remarkable poise, he brought her hand up to his lips, where he planted a chaste kiss.  
  
Sheril lowered her hand, and his eyes met Tricia. Dark, like a winter night sky, they glimmered, and the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Whatever you wish,” He spoke. “Whatever you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I told myself I wouldn’t start posting this until August or possibly even September - but I honestly have already written more of this story already than I thought I would have written by now (I’m part-way through Chapter 3, and as a whole have written over 17K for this fic). With that being said, I feel solid enough with the prologue to post it - though I may wait a bit with the other chapters, since there are a few scenes I probably will need to touch up on.
> 
> Anyways, welcome to the newest fic I’ve been working on! It’s going to be a long one, though I can’t say for sure how long it’ll be (I don’t know if it’ll be as long as Lotus in the Snow, but considering this prologue alone was longer than the prologue for that story, I can’t say for sure). But it’s plotted out, and I can definitely say I haven’t been this into writing something since Lotus in the Snow - so I’m excited given that.
> 
> As you probably saw in the tags, this AU is also going to be somewhat inspired by a fairytale, with this one taking elements from “Snow White.” (Snow White, Snow Queen - apparently I have a thing for fairytales with the word “snow” in the title. XD) Again, it’s taking elements, so I wouldn’t quite call this a retelling (there are no dwarves or anything of that nature), but there will be some plot parallels, and that particular fairytale is what’s inspired this story. 
> 
> Which leads me to the story itself: it’s set in a completely fictionalized world, which meant I’ve just thrown myself into worldbuilding (to /hell/ with naming kingdoms - like what a pain in the ass, and there is a reason for each name if people ever want to ask me about it XD). I just didn’t want to deal with using actual countries, and for this story it was better to create a new universe from scratch. This also means that while there are exorcists, akuma, and the Noah, their roles will be adjusted. There is no actual Black Order per say, although I probably will borrow canon elements here and there.
> 
> Character-wise, I am using Sheril and Tricia in this quite a bit - which may seem like an odd choice, especially given that I’ve made Tricia Alma’s biological mother. I did this for a few reasons though. Usually, Alma gets paired with the Changs in AUs, but in this instant it didn’t work for plot purposes. On some occasions, I actually like to pair Alma with the Epstein family as well since it’s really interesting to me, but that didn’t work either (I couldn’t see Sahlins or even Renny succumbing as easily to someone’s influence like the way Tricia does to Sheril). And Tricia just is...not as delved into in DGM, and I thought it would be interesting to build on her. In this AU, I’m sort of envisioning her as someone who is really quite vulnerable, and Sheril uses that to his advantage. (It’s also important to me to use someone like Tricia, because she’s not a bad mother - but she’s human, and sometimes people make poor decisions in times of hardship.)
> 
> And Sheril is just...really perfect for the role I need him to fill. Nothing like a good, sleazy diplomat there to plot some fuckery to see his own goals through. XD
> 
> Anyways, I hope if you’re reading this you’re enjoying the setup so far! Definitely leave comments, or let me know if some way what you think so I know people are actually reading this. I mean I’ll still post, but people hounding me usually helps speed up the process. XD (Which, I’m trying to speed, because I know the first few chapters are going to be a bit slow since there’s so much buildup involved - but hopefully it pays off!)
> 
> If anything, you got to see smol 8-year-old Prince!Alma, so we got one cinnamon roll in here. XD


	2. A Light in the Darkness

The woods were quiet.  Not in the peaceful way that was devoid of the kingdom’s cacophony and daily chaos – but the kind of quiet that was eerie, and unsettling.  It was the kind of quiet that lacked the gentle melodies of birds, and the kind of quiet where not even the swift rustle of a deer could be heard.  
  
It was the kind of quiet that never settled well with Suman Dark.  Not ever.  
  
Soundless.  Noiseless.  Any breath shuddered was raucously loud, and a giveaway to one’s location.  Instinctively, Suman fought the urge to hold his breath.  
  
Nearby, another man in a beige uniform eyed the area.  His head was hooded, and bandages covered the lower portion of his face, partially masking him. “Do you see anything?”  The hooded man asked.  
  
Suman’s eyes skimmed the area, and he shook his head.  “No,” He said.  “Stay close, Toma.  We don’t know if something is out here.”  
  
Toma nodded, as he looked around once more.  “It was in this area the other finder and I saw it.  A strange light….” He spoke.  “It faded before we could determine just where it was coming from, but it was definitely something.”  
  
Suman turned, a small frown on his face.  “Are you sure?” He asked.  “It’s a pretty large area, and these woods go on for miles…if what you saw was anything that could move, it may very well be gone by now.”  
  
As Suman spoke these words, he found himself staring into the woods, which seemed to fade into a dark abyss – eternal, and never-ending.  The forest was dense, and if one strayed too far from the main roads it was incredibly easy to get lost.  The treetops were so closely packed that it could become difficult to discern what time it was too, and depending on the area it could be difficult to see.  
  
Essentially, the forest was a death sentence for any who wandered too far into its clutches.  
  
Suman exhaled, as he kept his guard up.  He never liked venturing into the woods, and had it not been his duty as an exorcist to venture into it from time to time to scout things out, he never would have set a foot into it.     
  
“Yes, I’m sure,” Toma reassured, addressing Suman’s initial question.  “It was a faint green light, and it looked like…”  
  
“…Like innocence,” Suman finished, already knowing where the sentence had been going.  He sighed.  “Sorry.  I wasn’t anticipating getting sent out to scout today, so I’m just agitated.  Not that I ever like coming into this place…”  
  
“No need to apologize, sir,” Toma spoke.  He hesitated, before posing a question.  “Did…you have something back home to attend to?”  
  
Suman blinked, then looked away swiftly.  “It’s nothing…” He said gruffly.  
  
Toma paused, and for a moment looked as though he may try another question.  However, he spotted something just beyond Suman, and his eyes widened as he pointed. “Over there!”  
  
Turning, Suman looked in the direction that Toma had pointed toward.    
  
Shock filled his eyes instantly.  
  
There, just beyond the trees, was the faint iridescent of a pale green.  The source of the light could not be seen; only the gentle glow that gleamed softly in the dark shadows of the forest.  Quietly beckoning.  Hypnotically mesmerizing.  
  
Innocence.  
  
Suman quickly re-focused, and readied his right arm.  Covering it was a strange, bulky gauntlet – almost machine-like, and the color of steel.  His own innocence, and anti-akuma weapon.  
  
“You think there are akuma nearby?” Toma asked quietly.  
  
“Don’t know,” Suman responded lowly.  “But if that is innocence, then it’s likely…damn things are always hiding out here somewhere…”  
  
Toma said nothing, but gave a small nod of understanding.  
  
Neither of them moved for a moment, while Suman further scanned the area.  Even though it was a priority to locate and recover any pieces of innocence, he knew it was unwise to get ahead of himself; making too quick of a movement without properly assessing an area was never safe, and the risk of crossing paths with akuma were too high.  
  
Akuma.  Demons.  Whatever they were.  Suman couldn’t stand them, and he couldn’t stand dealing with them.  
  
Once he was convinced it was okay to move on, Suman spoke. “Let’s go.”  
  
They moved quickly, though the two men were cautious of each step they took.  Neither of them ever kept their sight on one spot either; both were continuously keeping an eye out for any sign that they may not be alone.  Every snap of a twig, and every shuffle of a leaf – they were all raucously loud in their ears, and only seemed to trigger a combination of adrenaline and unease.  
  
But so far, they saw no akuma.  Only the light.  
  
Eventually, Suman and Toma came to something of a clearing.  The trees were less packed in this area, where the two men could see there was a small body of water present.  A pond, undisturbed and soundless.  The surface was still, and almost looked like glass – completely smooth, and still.    
  
It was among the water that the light was brightest, and the source could be seen.  It had taken Suman a moment to register just what it was, though; it was small, and had there not been the glow to guide his vision, Suman may have missed it entirely.  
  
“It’s…a flower,” Toma observed in awe.  
  
“Yeah, and probably dangerous….” Suman muttered.  “We’ll need to confiscate it so we can take it back with us.”  
  
Suman turned back to Toma.  “Keep an eye out.  I’m going to wade in to see how deep this water goes – I’ll probably have to swim out to it.”  
  
“Be careful, sir.”  
  
Taking off his heavier coat – a long black one, with a silver rose cross placed over the left breast side – Suman started to wade into the water.  It had an unpleasant chill, which only seemed to be emphasized by the dark coolness of the air.  So far, the pond didn’t seem  _too_  deep.  But Suman was steady in his pace, just in case there were any sudden drop-offs.  
  
As he continued, Suman fought a grimace.  The water was murky, and he couldn’t see anything underneath.  
  
From the edge of the water, Toma continued to keep a lookout.  It was still quiet, with only the occasional sound of a ripple made to break the silence.    
  
Toma shifted, and glanced around.  It was still incredibly quiet, but that only placed the finder more on edge.     
  
Suman went a bit further in.  The water was getting deeper, but he was now closer to the flower.  He still couldn’t quite make out what kind of flower the innocence had taken the form of – some sort of water lily, though it looked a bit different.    
  
_‘Almost there,’_  Suman thought.   _‘Just a little closer-‘_  
  
There was a sudden flash of movement.  Within a second, a tremendous force blasted out of the water.  The explosion was overpowering, and Suman’s vision was momentarily obscured; farther back he could hear Toma shout something, but the noise and chaos drowned out the finder’s speech.  
  
_“It’s an akuma!”_  
  
The shout finally came through, and Suman pulled his right arm from the water, not thinking twice before he fired at attack from the machine-like weapon.  
  
There was a screech, shrill and piercing.  It was at this moment Suman was finally able to get a glimpse of the akuma: a rotund and bulbous creature, ashen-gray and grotesque.  Not a very developed akuma, and only a level one by the looks of it – which was good.  Suman could destroy it quickly.  
  
Suman shot another fire, not giving the akuma any time to act.  It withered, and began to crumbled to ashes.  
  
Ashes that were crumbling into the water.  
  
Immediately, Suman realized his mistake.  
  
“Sir, you have to get out of the water!” Toma shouted.  “The akuma virus will spread more easily!”  
  
Suman didn’t respond, as he was already trying to move.  However, he could still see the innocence, faint and glowing –  _close._   Too close to leave behind.  
  
Damn it, Suman couldn’t just  _leave_  it.  
  
Somewhat impulsively, Suman dived over, reaching for where the stem of the flower.  He could feel his side burn, and knew some of the ashes had touched his skin, the toxic fumes mixing into the water.  
  
Suman pulled, getting the flower before he pushed off, swimming toward the edge of the water.  Toma, who had run to that part of the pond’s edge, quickly pulled the exorcist out.    
  
“Sir, are you alright?  Your side-”

  
Suman gritted his teeth, his side burning.  “It’ll be fine,” He responded gruffly.  “It won’t spread.”  
  
There was a wary look in Toma’s eyes, but he didn’t argue.  “We should leave – while we have the innocence, and before any more akuma appear.”  
  
Suman nodded.  He didn’t need to be told twice.  
  


* * *

  
  
Klaud Nine was, and always had been, a straightforward and practical woman.  She was efficient, and realistic – she had to be in her position.  Barely into her early thirties, Klaud had already experienced more than what most people would, and had already worked her way up to the position of a general: one of the highest ranks an exorcist could have.  
  
It was something of a double-edged sword, being it was an honor as well as a burden.  The exorcists had a great responsibility to begin with, what with maintaining their own innocence and seeking out other pieces of it.  To be given the role of general – only when she had been 28 no less - had added the additional duty of overseeing and training other exorcists.    
  
Nothing that could have been taken on, given how few exorcists has been recruited throughout the kingdoms to begin with.  The soldiers were minimal in their existence.  
  
Klaud didn’t resent these responsibilties.  When it had been determined she was an accommodator, she had accepted her fate gracefully, and dedicated her life to training and doing what she could to assist in recovering innocence.  By that point, Klaud had already lost what she valued of her old life.  Taking on the role of an exorcist had given her a new purpose – though it was one that came with the continuous risk of destruction.  
  
She was reminded of this as she stood in front of Suman, staring at him coolly.    
  
Suman noticed this, and frowned.  “What?” He asked.  “You’re looking at me like I failed.  Toma and I recovered the innocence.”  
  
Klaud didn’t speak at first, but her eyes glimpsed down to Suman’s torso.  Although he had thrown his exorcist coat back on, she had caught a glimpse of the seared part of his clothing, and the lightly scorched flesh.    
  
She sighed. “You’re lucky you’re anti-akuma weapon is parasitic and contributes to your immunity.  The virus would have killed you otherwise.”  
  
Suman averted his gaze.  Anti-akuma weapons – the form innocence took when exorcist wielded it – were either parasitic or equipment.  If parasitic, the accommodator could withstand the poisonous toxins released by akuma.    
  
If not, they died.  
  
“Well, it didn’t,” Suman said, before bringing his gaze back to meet Klaud’s.   “You know more than anyone the risks associated with this work, General.”  
  
Suman was right – Klaud knew that much, and she couldn’t disagree.    
  
The general shifted her focus, looking to the black box Suman had brought with him.  “Let’s see the innocence.”  
  
Suman held out the box, allowing for Klaud to take it.  Opening it, she could see the flower inside.  It was no longer glowing as it had when Suman had initially found it; instead, it was now a strange, silvery color.  Almost glass-like, and metallic.  
  
Klaud’s expression was contemplative.  “It looks like it’s made of silver…”  
  
Suman nodded.  “I didn’t notice until after I’d recovered it.  Still not sure if that’s its actual form, or if it’s only the form it took in that area.”  
  
“We won’t know until we’ve found an accommodator,” Klaud noted. “I’ll send word to the council we’ve located a fragment.  The queen will want to know as well.”  
  
Klaud shut the box, then looked at Suman.  “Thank you for recovering it.  I’ll need to thank Toma as well.”  
  
“Well, if you want to thank me, you could dismiss me now,” Suman spoke, a somewhat dry edge to his voice.  
  
The tone made the corner of Klaud’s lips upturn.  She knew Suman well-enough to understand his humor when it was present.  “You have something to do?”  
  
Suman crossed his arms, and glanced off to the side.  “It’s my daughter’s birthday.  I’d like to be a decent father and at least visit a bit this evening.”  
  
“Ah, that’s right,” Klaud said, recalling that fact.  “You’ll have to tell Jaime I said happy birthday.”  
  
“You could come and tell her yourself if you want.  I wouldn’t stop you.”  
  
Klaud shook her head.  “I have to take care of this,” She said, holding up the box.  “But go ahead and go on.  I know you want to get back,” She said, before pausing as she glanced at Suman’s torso.  “Just get that checked out before you head home.  Immunity or not, the head nurse should look at it.”  
  
Suman tried not to let his exasperation show, though he did a poor job of it.  “Will do,” He said, before adding under his breath as he started to head off, “Tomorrow.”  
  
“No, you’ll be going  _now_ ,” Klaud emphasized, not having missed the added comment.  “I’d rather not lose an exorcist because they were being pigheaded.”  
  
“Alright, alright,” Suman grumbled.  “I’ll go.”  
  
A small smile played at Klaud’s lips.  “That’s what I thought.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Dusk was falling over the kingdom, with the sky doused in a series of pinks, oranges, and indigo.  The sun had just begun to spill beneath the horizon as it signified the end of the day.  Townspeople were closing shop for the night, and parents were calling their children to come home.    
  
Night would be approaching, and soon the world would be quiet again.  
  
As the streets began to clear, a cloaked figure was making his way through, carrying nothing with him but a decently-sized satchel.  He was careful to usually keep to the sides of the streets, and at a safe distance away from anyone so that not too many would take notice of his presence.  Occasionally, the cloaked person would stop, as he would get distracted by something of interest.  But then he would recall why he was out in the first place, and swiftly continue onward.  
  
Eventually, the  figure came to his intended destination: a small abode, wedged in-between several others that lined the streets.  It was simple, and easy to miss – but the figure had spotted it quickly enough.    
  
He went up to the door, and knocked.  
  
It took a few minutes, but soon enough the door opened.  A woman with soft brown hair loosely pulled back and pale eyes answered, her focus quickly landing on the cloaked figure.  
  
When she recognized who it was, surprise filled her eyes.  “Prince Alma-“   
  
Quickly, Alma tried to catch her.  “Shh!  Not so loud, Anna!” He spoke, before glancing around.  Thankfully, there was no one out who was close enough to hear, though the eighteen-year-old was tempted to pull the hood farther over his head.    
  
Alma turned back to Anna, a hopeful look in his eyes.  “Is it alright if I come in?”  
  
Anna nodded, and moved, allowing for Alma to slip in through the door.  
  
She shut it behind him.   “I’m so sorry – I had no idea you were coming, or I would have prepared something.”  
  
Alma blinked, before shaking his head. “No, please don’t worry about it!” He quickly tried to reassure, before offering an apologetic smile.  “I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to get away.”  
  
Before Anna could say anything, Alma continued.  “Besides, it’s someone’s birthday today, isn’t is?”  
  
Hearing this, a smile graced Anna’s lips.  “That’s really sweet of you,” Anna said, before she glanced over toward the back.  “Jaime was in her room.  She still hasn’t been feeling well…so she’s had to be in bed the last few days.”  
  
Alma’s insides knotted a little.  He knew Jaime through her father, Suman, and ever since he had met them Alma had known that Jaime had always been prone to falling ill easily.  Sometimes, she would seem alright, but more often than not the little girl was easily succumbing to one ailment or another – likely due to a flu she had experienced as an infant.  From what Alma knew, she had never been the same after that.  
  
Anna spied Alma’s expression.  “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a visit.  She’s stuck in that bed so often – I know she wishes she wasn’t,” She said.  “We can peek back there and see if she’s awake, but I have a feeling she is.”  
  
Anna led Alma back to where there was a small bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar already, but Anna knocked softly, before glancing in.  
  
“Jaime?” Anna asked, when she saw Jaime.  “Someone’s here to see you.”  
  
Jaime turned, and looked at her mother with curious brown eyes.  She was a small girl, even for only being ten, and her lightly freckled skin was rather pale from the lack of being outside.  She had been sitting up in bed, looking out the window in her room – though there wasn’t much to look at, save for a few other buildings and a darkening sky.  
  
The questioning look remained, as Jaime spoke.  “Is it Dad?”  
  
A flitter of guilt briefly appeared in Anna’s eyes, but she smiled regardless.  “No, but it’s someone else I think you’ll be happy to see.”  
  
At this moment, Alma stuck his head out from behind Anna, smiling brightly.  “Happy Birthday!”  
  
Immediately, Jaime’s eyes lit up.  “Alma!”  
  
Alma walked over, and sat on the edge of the bed.  Placing his bag onto his lap, Alma reached into it.  “I got you something.”  
  
“What is it?” Jaime asked excitedly.  
  
Alma grinned.  “This,” He said, as he pulled out a book., opening it so Jaime could see.  Inside, the pages were primarily illustrations – all of different landscapes and locations, beautifully detailed and incredibly vivid.  
  
Jaime looked at the pages, enthralled by the colors and places depicted.  “They’re so pretty!”  
  
Alma nodded.  “Yeah.  I know you’re always saying you want to see more places, so I thought this way you could see them whenever you want to!”  
  
Eyes still shining, Jaime clutched the book to her chest.  “Thank you!”  
  
Alma ruffled Jaime’s hair.  “Of course!  I couldn’t not bring something for my favorite princess.”  
  
Jaime giggled, then looked at Alma inquisitive eyes.  “Did you see my dad today?” She asked, hope evident in her voice.  
  
There was a pause, and Alma wavered.  He actually hadn’t seen Suman all day, but from what he understood the exorcist had been sent out to look into something with one of the finders.  
  
“Ah, no,” Alma answered, though he could already recognize a small flicker of disappointment in Jaime’s eyes.   Quickly, Alma added, “But I bet he’s working really hard to finish whatever his assignment is so he can come see you.”  
  
This seemed to comfort Jaime, who nodded in agreement.  
  
“I’ll go put on some tea,” Anna said, before leaving Alma with Jaime.    
  
Alma watched as Anna left, then turned back to Jaime.   “I’ll be right back, okay?” He said, before leaving the girl to look at her new book.  
  
Alma had just made it back to near the kitchen area, where he could see Anna lighting the stove.  “Do you need any help?” He asked.  
  
Anna turned, and smiled as she shook her head.  “No, but thank you for offering.  You’ve already done so much already,” Anna said. “I know Jaime was hoping to see her father today, but it means a lot that you came.”  
  
Although there was appreciation in her voice, there was a hint of something else that scratched at Alma’s ears.  He shifted a bit.  “I’m sure Suman will come visit as soon as he can,” Alma mentioned, a hint of optimism in his voice.   
  
“I know he will when he can,” Anna said, sounding as though she also was attempting to sound optimistic.  “I understand it’s hard with the work he does as an exorcist though.   Exorcists have to do so much.”  
  
It almost sounded as though Anna were going to say more, but she seemed to recall she was speaking with someone from the royal family, and stopped herself.  Instead, she shifted the subject.  “It has helped a lot with the medical expenses his position has helped cover.  Before it was like we were always scrambling to find help for Jaime.”  
  
Alma’s eyes glanced back toward Jaime’s room, then back to where Anna was.  “Do you need someone to come by tomorrow?” Alma asked.  “I know you said Jaime had needed to stay in bed again…”  
  
“I think she’s coming out of this wave…but it wouldn’t hurt probably,” Anna said, before once more offering a small look of gratitude.  “Thank you again, truly.  It means a lot how much you’ve tried to help.”  
  
Heat rose to Alma’s cheeks.  “Ah, it’s really no problem,” Alma spoke.  
  
Before Anna could speak anymore, there was the sound of the door opening.   Both Anna and Alma turned, just as they saw Suman entering into the home.  
  
Anna had been the first to go greet him, meeting Suman at the door.  “I’m so glad you made it home,” She was saying, before giving him a small peck on the cheek.  
  
“Sorry, I got held up…I can’t stay long, but I wanted to come at least for a bit,” Suman was beginning to say, though he stopped when he spotted Alma a bit farther back.    
  
Suman looked in confusion.  “Wasn’t expecting to see you here…”  
  
“He came to tell Jaime happy birthday,” Anna said, before Alma could say anything.  “As should you – go tell her!”  
  
“Don’t worry, I’m going,” Suman responded, before sparing another glance for Alma.  “I hope you let someone _know_  where you were before you came here.”  
  
Sheepishly, Alma looked away.  “No one’s probably noticed I’m gone…”  
  
Suman’s expression immediately went flat, and he exhaled.  “Let’s hope not,” He said before heading back to Jaime’s room.  
  
Alma released a small breath.  He should have known Suman might get onto him about leaving the castle without telling anyone; Alma was supposed to have an escort if he did.  Usually, that wasn’t too bad, and Alma didn’t mind the company –especially if the escort was someone like Suman or even Toma.    
  
But they had been gone, and Alma had just…not seen the need for it to even be that significant a deal.  The town itself was safe enough, with seals placed around the borders to help prevent any threats from entering the city limits – namely, akuma.  
  
Besides, Alma had…needed the space in a way.  Getting outside of the castle walls had essentially given him a breather, considering that some people were rather stifling to be around.  
  
One person in particular came to mind, but Alma tried not to think about them.  
  
Anna, noticing the slight shift in Alma’s expression, looked with concern.  “Is everything alright?”  
  
Alma snapped from his thoughts.  “Oh!  Yeah, sorry,” He apologized.  “Just…kind of zoned out.”  
  
Anna nodded, not pressing any further.  
  
The two of them visited a few moments longer, though the conversation remained general.  Alma was glad for this; he always liked talking with other people, and hearing about how they were doing.  It was often a nice distraction from whatever thoughts were swirling around in his head, and was just something else for Alma to keep his focus on.  
  
The visit was cut short, when Suman came back into the room.  He looked at Anna.  “I’ll have to get going,” He said, a tinge of regret in his tone.    
  
Anna’s face visibly fell.  “But, Suman, you just got here-“  
  
“I know, but you know how it is,” Suman sighed.  He turned to Alma.  “Anyways, I have to make sure  _you_  get back in one piece.”  
  
“You act like the walk back is so treacherous,” Alma jested.  “But you should stay longer.  I can go back myself.”  
  
Suman shook his head.  “It’s fine.  The longest I can stay is maybe a few minutes more, but all exorcists have to be back at the castle when not on an assignment.”  
  
Alma didn’t argue any further.  He knew Suman was right.  One of the requirements for exorcists was that they were supposed to remain at the castle as sort of an on-call basis when not on missions, similar to those who took on the role of finder.  They could still leave from time to time, but evenings in particular were difficult for them to get away.  
  
It also made it hard if exorcists had families as well.  
  
“I’m going to say bye to Jaime,” Alma said, as he went back to see Jaime one last time.  When he made it to her room, he could see the little girl was looking at the book he had given her – a sight that made Alma’s lips upturn into a smile.    
  
Jaime looked up when Alma came in.  “Are you going too?”   
  
Alma nodded.  “Yeah, but I’ll be sure to come back when I can,” He said.  “You’ll have to tell me which pictures in there are your favorite when I come back.”  
  
“I will!”  
  
Alma said his goodbyes to Jaime then, before heading back out to do the same with Anna.  Once Suman had done so as well, they both left the house, and headed outside where night had completely fallen.  The streets were dark and the sky was inky, while the only light to illuminate much of anything were a few warm glows from some of the windows in addition to the stars above.  
  
As they walked, Suman looked in Alma’s direction.  “You know I really appreciate you being that thoughtful of Jaime.  But you shouldn’t be going anywhere without an escort…”  
  
Alma kept his gaze averted, and shrugged.  “It’s not like I had to go that far.  I didn’t think one was necessary.”  
  
Suman raised an eyebrow.  “Like it wasn’t necessary to tell anyone where you were going?” He asked, before continuing rather informally.  “Alma, you’re a  _prince_  – I know you’re not into formalities, but there’s a reason for these things.  People will worry if they don’t know where you are.”  
  
There was a pinch of something in Alma’s chest as he heard Suman’s words, and he exhaled.  “Yeah, I know…” He murmured, voice almost inaudible.  Internally, there was a voice that itched to say more – but Alma quieted himself, hesitant to say too much just then.  
  
Suman just barely caught the tone Alma’s statement, though he didn’t comment on it specifically.  “Look,” Suman started, tone a bit softer.  “It’s just not safe for you to be out by yourself, alright?  We just…can never be sure what might happen.”  
  
Blinking, Alma looked at Suman inquisitively.  “Like what?” He asked.  “The town is safe, and it’s not like there’s ever any akuma activity too close.”  
  
There was a hesitancy that washed over Suman, and he didn’t speak right away.  Finally, he managed to do so. “They’ve gotten closer.  Akuma.”  
  
Alma stopped walking.  “They’ve…gotten closer?  To here?”  
  
Suman’s expression remained contemplative.  “Not incredibly so, but there was one Toma and I saw today.  It was closer to the town today than most others have been,” The exorcist explained.  “It may be nothing, but it may not…”  
  
He paused, glancing back at Alma.  “Either way, it’s nothing we can afford to risk.”  
  
Alma nodded.  There was a curious look in his eyes.  “Did you guys find anything?”  
  
Suman hesitated with his answer, then spoke.  “Yeah, but we shouldn’t talk about it out in the open like this.  Someone could hear-“  
  
There was a  _clang_ , almost as though something had been knocked over.  Suman and Alma both turned toward where the sound had come from: an alley, dark and blackened by shadows.  
  
Alma tensed, and watched as Suman stepped forward, looking as though he were ready to activate his anti-akuma weapon if need be.    
  
“Whoever’s there, come out now,” Suman ordered.  
  
There was the sound of something moving, and Alma held his breath.  Typically, he wouldn’t have been so anxious – but the discussion of akuma just beforehand had made the prince slightly on edge, and the fact that it was so dark out wasn’t helping much either.  
  
More movement, and something came out of the alley.  
  
It was a cat.  
  
Alma burst out laughing, tension evaporating.  “Aw, it’s just a little cat!”  
  
Suman lowered his anti-akuma weapon.  “Yeah, a  _black_  one,” He pointed out. “Hope it’s not bad luck or anything – hey, what are you doing?”  
  
Alma, who had not been at  _all_  put off by the superstitious fear of black cats, had already gone forward to approach it.  He was kneeling down, holding his hand out.  “I just want to see it if I can pet it,” He answered lightheartedly.  “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.”  
  
The cat still remained a bit away, but was eying Alma with sharp, yellow eyes.  On its forehead, it looked like there was something silver – though Alma couldn’t tell in the darkness.  What he could make out was a ribbon tied around the cat’s neck.  
  
“It has a ribbon around its neck – do you think it got separated from its owner?” Alma asked.  
  
Suman shrugged, crossing his arms.  “If it did, I’m sure it’s smart enough to find its way back.  Don’t get any ideas about trying to bring it back to the castle.”  
  
The cat stood, and for a moment Alma was hopeful it may come closer.  However, it turned, and ran back into the alley as it disappeared.  “Aw, it ran away…”  
  
“Probably going to its owner,” Suman said. “Come on – we should really get going.”  
  
Alma looked one last time at the alley, and sighed.  He turned back to Suman and nodded.  “Okay,” He said, as he stood to start walking again with the other man.  
  
As they left, neither of them caught the pair of yellow eyes watching them from the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!
> 
> I finally got around to editing this chapter – I’m currently finishing up to chapter four, though I still need to go back and edit the rest as well. XD Again, not sure how long it’ll be, but given that the first few chapters are a lot of set up, we really are in for it. (Don’t know if it’ll be as long as Lotus in the Snow, buuuuut who knows? XD)
> 
> But, that was what this chapter essentially was: mostly set-up, and some further establishment of the universe this fic is taking place it. Understandably it’ll be a little slow, as the next chapters will be – but I promise it actually is necessary. Suman is shown quite a bit in this chapter, as well as his family – which is intentional. His character is going to be rather significant to the plot later on, and I wanted to give some insight as to what his relationship with them might be like despite being an exorcist. (I also just enjoy writing Suman’s family in general. If you’ve read Lotus in the Snow, you might remember Anna, who is basically the OC I created for his wife – I’m attached to her for some reason, and wanted to use her here as well.)
> 
> We also see Alma in this! Which is always fun for me, because I love writing Alma, and I think the universe in its entirety knows how much I adore him. XD He’s really sweet to write (at least, considering this isn’t canonverse where he’s gotten completely wrecked by all the messiness of the way the Order did him and black matter), and I love writing him with Jaime. I just think in general, Alma would have been good with kids; he sort of has that lighthearted excitement and curiosity to him, and I wanted to put him in a situation that displays such. 
> 
> I’m sure people are already picking up on who the cat is, so…not much to say on that. XD 
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you reading, and hopefully you’re enjoying the way this has started off! <3


	3. A Voice from Within

_Wherever he was, it was dark. Alma couldn’t see anything.  
  
Where was he? Alma looked around, trying to see if he could determine any signs of where he might be. However, he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t see the walls, the ground – though he could see his arm if he outstretched it. That much Alma could make out.  
  
But aside from that, he saw nothing. Only darkness. Endless. Empty. _ Nothing.  
_  
Alma frowned, completely bewildered. He had no idea what sort of place this was, and it was almost eerie. Alma was hesitant to just remain in the same spot though, so he began walking. Perhaps if he walked far enough, he would find something.  
  
The darkness could only go on for so long, right?  
  
_ “Find me.” _  
  
It wasn’t quite a voice, but the words trickled into Alma’s head like a ghostly whisper, startling him. They were like chips of ice seeping deep into him, and Alma shivered, as his spine was kissed by frost. “Hello?” He asked, somewhat uncertainly.  
  
_ “Find me.” _  
  
There it was again – the same, chilling call, beckoning and almost pleading. Oddly enough, Alma found himself yearning to find it. He looked around. “I don’t know where you are-“  
  
_ “I’m close.” _  
  
Alma turned, as he tried to determine where the strange whisper was coming from. He definitely felt some kind of pull tugging at his insides, but it was hard to sense just what direction it wanted him to go in – whatever_ it _even was.  
  
_ “You’re close.” _  
  
_ ‘How close?’ _Alma thought, as he started walking. As he did so, he eventually could feel the tug grow in power, and Alma realized that he was going in the right direction.  
  
The whisper seemed to have quieted by this point, but Alma continued on regardless.  
  
Soon, Alma was able to make out a light ahead. It was small, and faint, but once Alma could see it the light was all he could focus on – and what the tug seemed to be pulling him toward.  
  
_ “Find me…” _  
  
_ ‘Just a little closer,’ _Alma told himself. He noticed an odd ripple sound every time he took a step now, and when he glanced down he could see it looked like there was water beneath him – though it must have been incredibly shallow, because he was not falling into it.  
  
The pull tugged again, beckoning Alma to continue. He did so, and was not getting closer to where the light was: something small, and lingering in what looked like a body of water.  
  
What was it? It was still hard to tell, but if Alma got closer-  
  
_ “Find me, Alma…” _  
  
As Alma took his next step, he lost his footing. The ground beneath the water must have dropped off, because the next thing Alma knew he was submerged in water. He flailed his arms, trying to find which way the surface was – but it was dark, and Alma couldn’t see.  
  
He couldn’t see, and he couldn’t breathe.  
  
_ ‘I can’t breathe!’ _Alma silently panicked._ ‘I can’t breathe-!’ _  
  
Everything went black.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
Alma gasped, his eyes opening wide as he sat up quickly. His lungs screamed for air, dry and burning – almost as though they had been smothered in water, clogged and suffocating.  
  
He looked around. He was in his bedroom.  
  
_‘A dream,’_ Alma told himself, as he tried to regulate his breathing. _‘It was just a dream…’_  
  
A strange dream, though Alma could already feel its vividness slipping away from the forefront of his consciousness. Shaking his head, Alma ran his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up more. He looked over, and could already see bright light pouring into his window.  
  
It was morning.  
  
Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Alma’s spotted the clock hanging on his wall. His eyes widened a bit in surprise when he saw how late he had slept in – about an hour and a half later than he typically would, even on some of his lazier days.  
  
Alma quickly went to get dressed, somewhat offset by the realization of the time. Normally, he would have woken up early so he could practice his archery – but Alma supposed he could do it later. It was just really nice to have that extra time in the mornings to work on it.  
  
Once dressed, Alma left his room. As he entered into the hall he could already see the castle staff was bustling about and well into their duties. A few of the servants paused to greet the prince, with Alma’s response being amiable as always. Alma was able to avoid from getting too wrapped into any conversations though, since the servants needed to focus on their duties and Alma _really_ needed to get some breakfast.  
  
The dining room was quiet when Alma entered – which wasn’t much of a surprise. It was always quiet, even with Alma’s mother already being there. He could see where Tricia was seated in her usual spot, as well as his stepfather, Sheril. Neither of them seemed to take notice of Alma when he entered, or when he sat down.  
  
This wasn’t anything unusual. With meals in particular, they normally were taken in silence or minimal conversation – at least, that was how it always felt to Alma. He never was sure which turn to expect either, and if conversation did arise it was surface level, and at times a little awkward. Tricia was a quiet person to begin with, and Sheril was someone that Alma couldn’t say he was the most comfortable engaging with.  
  
Not that it stopped Alma from _trying_ to have polite conversation – it was his mother and stepfather, after all.  
  
“Good morning,” Alma chirped, as he broke the silence.  
  
Tricia’s attention shifted over to Alma, and she smiled gently. There was still a small glow in her eyes, although it was far fainter than what Alma remembered there being as a child. The years had seemed to take something of a toll on Tricia, not so much age-wise as it appeared health-wise. She was often pallid, and tired. More often that not, she would have to retire early in the evenings, or retreat to her private chambers even during the day to ensure she wouldn’t use up all of her energy.  
  
Truth be told, it worried Alma. But he was never sure how to bring it up, particularly when the head nurse and castle physician already seemed aware of whatever may be going on.  
  
“Good morning,” Tricia said. “Did you sleep well?”  
  
Alma jumped on the opportunity for more than a one-way conversation. His mother wasn’t always talkative, so any time she felt up to it Alma was always eager to engage. “Yeah, I did” He responded with a smile.  
  
Sheril looked up, and glanced at Alma with shrewd, dark eyes. “Really?” He asked. “You don’t look like it.”  
  
The comment took Alma a bit aback. The way Sheril spoke had been more observational, and with an outwardly nonchalant edge – but there had been an undercurrent to the tone. Or had Alma imagined that? He could never tell with Sheril whether it was his own discomfort with the man, or if it were something having to do with Sheril’s own feelings toward Alma.  
  
Basically, Alma could never tell if it was a matter of Sheril not liking him – or if it were something else entirely.   He really had no idea.  
  
Alma shifted a little in his seat, though he was aware his mother was now looking at him with questioning eyes. “Um, I had a dream about something. But I can’t remember it anymore,” He answered, before turning, smiling meekly. “It wasn’t anything major.”  
  
To Alma’s relief, this answer seemed satisfactory, and no one asked any further about it.  
  
Once more, the room was devoid of any conversation. Alma was a little disappointed by this, but after his last attempt he wasn’t certain if he was ready to try to say much again.  
  
With this is mind, Alma finished his breakfast somewhat quickly. He was about to leave, but then Tricia spoke.  
  
“Oh, Alma,” She started, catching Alma before he could get out of his seat. “We wanted to let you know – your cousin is coming to visit.”  
  
Alma was surprised. “My cousin?” He asked, while internally racking his brain as he tried to think of what “cousin” his mother could have been referring to.  
  
“You haven’t met her – Road is a family member of mine,” Sheril answered. “We would have told you last night, but you weren’t exactly present at dinner.”  
  
Awkwardness pinched at Alma’s nerves. He hadn’t been at dinner because he had gone to see the Dark family instead – but how had he supposed to know that would be the one time his mother and stepfather would _want_ to talk to him?  
  
“She’ll be coming for the Autumn Ball,” Tricia elaborated, shifting the subject along. “Then she’ll be staying for a bit after.”  
  
That was right – the ball they held every year for the autumn equinox. It was one of the larger celebrations that took place in Engelus, and even the town would have all sorts of festivities for that day. It had slipped Alma’s mind how fast-approaching that was, as it was actually supposed to be early the following week.  
  
Alma looked between his mother and stepfather curiously. “When she’s coming?”  
  
Tricia turned to Sheril. “I believe in a few days? I know Sheril is excited,” She was saying to her husband. “You dote on her so much just in conversation – I’m looking forward to meeting her.”  
  
Sheril smiled. “Yes, I’m sure Road will be looking forward to meeting you as well. You’ll adore her,” He said. “Perhaps Alma can even show her around when she arrives.”  
  
Alma was surprised by this. Sheril wasn’t always that _inclusive_ when it came to Alma, so he wasn’t sure how to take the suggestion. But Sheril seemed to be in a pleasanter mood than normal, as did Tricia, so Alma wasn’t about to argue.  
  
“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Alma agreed, chancing a somewhat optimistic smile.  
  
With the air seeming less strained than it had a moment ago, Alma wavered on leaving just yet. He looked over at Tricia. “Um…I was going to go practice some archery,” He started to say, daring to let his guard down. “Do you want to come watch? It’s really nice outside today too. Sort of like the days when Dad used to practice on.”  
  
As soon as they words were out, Alma realized they had been a mistake. Tricia had nearly dropped her silverware, and Sheril’s sharp gaze had all but sliced into Alma – cool, and cutting.  
  
Sheril was the first to respond vocally. “It’s a bit childish to be requesting such things of your mother, isn’t it?”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to respond, but closed it shut, faltering on his own speech. “I didn’t mean-“  
  
“That’s alright, Sheril,” Tricia spoke, intercepting the conversation as she collected herself. She turned to Alma, and smiled reassuringly – though there was something in her eyes that made Alma regret saying anything to begin with. “Today’s not a good day, Alma – but perhaps another time.”  
  
Silently, Alma nodded.  
  
The tension had returned to the room, and it was a bit suffocating. Swiftly, Alma excused himself from the table, and exited the dining room.  
  
Once he was out, he felt like he could breathe again.  
  
_‘Ugh,’_ Alma thought. _‘Why do I have to be so_ stupid _?’_  
  
Looking back, Alma should have known better. He wasn’t even sure what _possessed_ him to risk bringing up his birth father, especially when it seemed like speaking of the late king was somehow a taboo. Alma didn’t understand why – his father had been a good king, and a good _father_. At least, from what Alma could remember of the man.  
  
Either way, it was too late now. The morning might have been decent but Alma had somehow messed up again – like he seemed to every time he interacted with his mother and stepfather.  
  
Taking a breath, Alma decided to go ahead and go get his archery equipment. Practicing always took his mind off these sort of things, and since he had woken up late his body was already itching to do some kind of physical activity.  
  
_"Find me._ _”_  
  
Alma stopped walking. Just then, he could have sworn he heard it: the strange, eerie voice that he had dreamed of. But it wasn’t so much a voice as it was a _sensation_ – or had Alma just now imagined it?  
  
Alma shook his head. _‘It’s probably nothing-‘_  
  
_"Find me._ _”_  
  
Eyes widening a bit, Alma turned. “Hello?” He asked, though when he looked he saw no one in the hallway with him – not even a servant around.  
  
Alma suppressed a shiver. Somewhere, in his bones, he felt a pull.  
  
God, what _was_ it? Was it the remnants of that dream just lingering in Alma’s head? If so, why did it feel so _real_?  
  
Alma remained quiet, and listened. Would he hear that strange, beckoning call again? He almost hoped he did, because it really had felt as though something were _calling_ to him.  
  
“Alma?”  
  
Alma turned, and standing beside him was Klaud. On her shoulder was Lau Shimin, who was blinking curiously.  
  
“Is everything alright?” Klaud asked, when Alma didn’t answer right away.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” Alma said, realizing he had probably looked rather off just standing there in the hallway. “Sorry – I thought I heard something.”  
  
Klaud raised an eyebrow. “But it was nothing?”  
  
“I think I just didn’t get good sleep last night,” Alma explained, though the excuse sounded lame even to his own ears. “My mind is probably a bit all over the place.”  
  
Klaud didn’t question it, and simply nodded. “I see,” She said.  
  
On her shoulder, Lau chattered a bit as his tail swished.  
  
Alma smiled as the small, white monkey. “Hi, Lau,” Alma greeted, as he playfully tapped the monkey’s nose.  
  
The monkey chattered amiably, and Alma laughed softly.  
  
Klaud ran a hand over Lau Shimin’s head. “Archery practice?” She asked Alma.  
  
“Yeah. I sort of overslept, so I was going to go now,” Alma replied. “I didn’t get to practice as much yesterday, either. Figured I’d try to get some extra time in to make up for it.”  
  
Klaud nodded. “I’ll accompany you. Lau and I could use the fresh air.”  
  
Alma’s expression brightened. “Okay!” He said, glad for some friendly company.  
  
The general accompanied Alma to get his equipment, and once they had they the both of them went outside to the central courtyard. It wasn’t where the exorcists themselves practiced; they usually remained in the training area, due to the power their innocence wielded. But, since Alma only ever practiced his archery, he preferred to be outside in the courtyard, where he could be in the fresh air and beneath the bright sunlight.  
  
Alma paused, tying his archery bracer on – something he always did, so if the string of the bow snapped it wouldn’t injure his arm that held the bow.  
  
“That bracer looks pretty beaten,” Klaud noticed, when she saw the way the leather brace was nearly worn through. “You should probably invest in a new one soon.”  
  
Alma shrugged. “It’s got a little life in it left,” He said, as he finished lacing it on his left forearm. “Anyways, I like it, and it’ll be a pain to break a new one in.”  
  
Readying his bow, Alma fired a practice shot – this one for the trunk of the large apple tree that he always used. The arrow hit dead center.  
  
Klaud crossed her arms, watching. “Your form has gotten better,” She noted.  
  
“Thanks! I know that was one of the things you kept pointing out, so I’ve been trying to work on that,” Alma spoke, pleased that Klaud had noticed any improvement.  
  
Klaud’s eyes moved back to the tree, and she nudged her head toward it. “Think you can aim for that branch above?”  
  
Alma turned, and looked to where Klaud was referring to. He could spy the branch, thin and slightly obscured. Not the easiest shot, but Alma thought he could do it.  
  
Again, Alma readied his bow. But, just before he could fire his shot, Alma caught a glimpse of someone watching from one of the castle windows above.  
  
_Sheril._  
  
The distraction caused Alma to release his arrow a second too quickly, and the shot missed, flying past the branch and landing a way’s off on the ground. Alma wanted to cringe at how poorly the shot had been made, and he found himself glancing back at the window after it had been fired.  
  
It was empty.  
  
Klaud looked at Alma, somewhat bewildered by the odd shift in the prince’s demeanor. When Alma saw her expression, he looked away swiftly. “Sorry…that was a bad shot….”  
  
Klaud’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It was a more difficult target,” She expressed, as Lau Shimin jumped off her shoulder and scampered toward the fallen arrow. “Any distraction would have made it a bit of a challenge. It’s why focus is so important.”  
  
Alma nodded. He knew Klaud was correct in that it had been more advanced a shot, but that didn’t quite make him feel much better.  
  
As Alma busied himself with preparing for another attempt, Klaud approached him. “Alma,” She started, “Did something happen earlier?”  
  
Alma stiffened a little, not entirely sure what to say. He should have guessed that Klaud would pick up on something. Her eyes were always astute, and her mind was always calculating; Klaud was simply not a person to miss signs, and if something was amiss she always seemed to know. It made it difficult to even try to keep anything from her.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s…it’s just…”  
  
A flash of sympathy sparked in Klaud’s eyes. Gingerly, she placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Alma,” She spoke. “I only asked because it seemed like something was amiss. But we don’t have to discuss anything.”  
  
Alma sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. He found that he was instinctively avoiding Klaud’s gaze, despite her only wanting to help. “I just…feel like I can’t do anything right…”  
  
A contemplative frown appeared on Klaud’s face. “Did Sheril say something?” She asked, words even but cool.  
  
Alma was somewhat surprised by the quick connection Klaud had made, though he realized he shouldn’t have been; Klaud was more than aware of the odd tension that always seemed to be in place between Alma and Sheril.  
  
Alma took a small breath. “It’s like every single thing I say or do is _wrong_. And all I do is make mistakes around him,” Alma spoke. “I swear…sometimes I feel like he has something against me.”  
  
Klaud was quiet, as she took in Alma’s words. Her expression hadn’t quite shifted, but her eyes remained thoughtful and pensive.  
  
Lau Shimin, who had retried the fallen arrow, scurried back, and climbed up onto Klaud’s shoulder.  
  
Klaud spoke, placing a hand on Lau’s head. “You shouldn’t let one person’s actions define your self-worth,” She offered. Her words held a firmness to them, yet all the same there was a softness. “Your stepfather isn’t the most amiable person, and I think it’s safe to say most people will disagree with him on things.”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, but he knew that Klaud had a point.  He didn’t even know why it was that he always let Sheril get to him – especially when Sheril did have a tendency to be so critical of everything. Alma was likely making an error in even assuming it was actually personal.

  
Taking the arrow from Lau Shimin, Klaud handed it to Alma. “Why don’t you try another shot? I know you can at least get one of those apples.”  
  
Alma hesitated, but took the arrow, nodding. Positioning himself to shoot, Alma focused on one of the apples hanging from a branch.  
  
_‘Focus,’_ He told himself, this time making a strong effort as to not let anything break his concentration.  
  
He released the string, and the arrow went flying. Cleanly, it cut the stem of the apple, causing it to fall to the ground.  
  
“Much better,” Klaud observed approvingly.  
  
Hearing this, Alma smiled, finally beginning to feel a little bit better.  
  


* * *

  
  
The room was dark, and dimly lit. The thick, velvet curtains were drawn partway – not enough to entirely blacken the room in darkness, but just enough that the warm rays of sunshine were obscured, and fractured into dusty rays of light.  
  
Over time, Tricia had grown accustomed to this lighting – the sun was so painfully bright at times.  
  
She wasn’t sure when it had started, or when her body had started to _tire_ so much. Tricia wasn’t old, and yet she had grown frail with time as though she were a flower that had been plucked and discarded into a brittle snowfall. A fragile rose that was beginning to wilt before its time.  
  
Tricia had no idea what had caused it. Stress, most likely. The castle physician had come numerous times to inspect the queen, but could not find any hard evidence that it was an actual disease that may have been ailing her.  
  
Regardless, Tricia was always advised to rest when she could, and never to strain herself.  
  
Clearly, this was easier said than done.  
  
Tricia was standing at the window, glancing out and into the courtyard. She didn’t go outside often, anymore. Not because she didn’t want to, but more so because she tended to wear out so easily when in the heat of day.   Autumn would make things a bit easier with it being cool out, but she would still have to be conscientious, and careful to not push herself.  
  
Her eyes continued to stare outside, as a distant look lingered within them. Among the irises, a glimpse of remorse could be seen.  
  
Behind Tricia, Sheril walked up, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You should be lying down,” He suggested gently.  
  
Tricia turned slightly, so she could see Sheril.  “If I were to lie down as much as everyone suggested, I don’t think I’d ever stand,” She replied.  Her voice, though soft, held a hint of amusement in it.  
  
Sheril’s lips twitched upward, though the semi-smile did not reach his eyes. “Nor would you ever stand if you didn’t rest here and there,” Sheril reiterated in a sweet, lulling note of humor.  
  
Sheril ran a hand down Tricia’s arm – gentle, yet firm. Unyielding. “I only want to ensure you don’t wear yourself out, dear.”  
  
“You worry too much,” Tricia chided. Her words were devoid of any severity, and they were nothing short of delicate. “But it’s very sweet of you.”  
  
“I certainly can’t allow for anything terrible to happen to my wife, can I?” Sheril spoke, as he wrapped his arms around Tricia from behind. He leaned forward, as the side of his face brushed close to Tricia’s neck – so close that he could feel the heat of her skin against his own.  
  
As he leaned forward, Sheril’s eyes happened to glance out the window, noticing what Tricia was looking at. “He spends quite a bit of time with the exorcists,” Sheril observed, his tone dropping with a note of iciness.  
  
Tricia hummed in contemplation, as her gaze returned back to the courtyard. By “he” she knew that Sheril had been referring to Alma, who was currently outside and with Klaud.  
  
“I know you don’t approve,” Tricia acknowledged. “But the exorcists here can be trusted. Klaud in particular has been with us for so long now.”  
  
Sheril did not immediately object, although his expression was pensive, and his eyes were inky with darkness.  
  
“I only think we should be wary, given what happened not that long ago in Arcaia,” Sheril finally pointed out.  “An exorcist went mad, and killed another.  Then before the situation could even be dealt with, the exorcist general in Arcaia helped him escape.  Quite the ordeal if I recall.”  
  
Tricia was quiet, but she remembered well enough the incident Sheril was referring to.  It had been two years ago when the unsettling news had reached her ears: one of the exorcists recruited had for some reason turned on another exorcist, killing them in cold blood.  The whole incident had created an uproar, even resulting in an emergency council meeting – but before any action could be taken against the guilty exorcist, he had somehow escaped, and the general who had worked with him had also disappeared.  
  
CROWs had been sent to track them down, but to no avail.  To this day, no one was sure what had happened to them.  
  
Releasing a small breath, Tricia sighed.  “That won’t happen here.  Klaud and Suman can be trusted, and will be thorough if a new accommodator is located for the innocence that was just found.”  
  
“Your trust is them is admirable,” Sheril complimented.  “But even exorcists can be corruptible.”  
  
Tricia’s expression was somber, but she placed a hand over Sheril’s as he lingered on her shoulder.  “It won’t happen…not here,” She spoke, though her words lacked any firmness to them.  
  
She exhaled, almost in defeat.  “I’m sorry – I know you only want to be cautious,” Tricia apologized.  She offered another weak smile in Sheril’s direction.  “Thank you, for looking out for these things.”  
  
Sheril smiled.  “Of course,” He said.  “I only want to do what’s best for my family.”  
  


* * *

  
  
The time spent out in the courtyard passed quickly for Alma. It wasn’t even until Klaud suggested they stop that he had realized just how much time had passed – almost an hour, which was fairly long for a practice session. Usually sessions were kept short, and Alma would do several throughout the day to avoid straining any muscles or accidental injuries.  
  
“You should save some energy for when it’s dark out,” Klaud suggested. “I haven’t seen you practice in the evenings as much lately.”  
  
Alma lowered his bow, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been slacking a little in that area,” He acknowledge with a sheepish smile.  
  
Pausing, Alma’s attention then turned to the monkey perched on Klaud’s shoulder. “Want to share, Lau?” He asked, as he held up the apple he had shot down earlier.  
  
Chattering away eagerly, Lau Shimin scampered down from Klaud’s shoulder where he then crawled up Alma. He chattered again, somewhat loudly, into Alma’s ear once he was up high enough.  
  
Alma laughed. “Okay, okay! I’ll cut you a piece – don’t worry.”  
  
While Alma and Lau were pre-occupied, Klaud glanced around. There was a slight itch at the back of her neck, and she could feel her skin prickle. It was the sort of feeling she received when she felt as though she were being _watched_ , and it wasn’t a feeling that she was fond of.  
  
But, when Klaud looked around she saw no one. Not even in the windows.  
  
Lips pressed into a thin line, Klaud turned back to Alma.  
  
“See? That tree has the _best_ apples,” Alma was saying to Lau, who was happily munching on a piece of apple.  
  
“We should head inside,” Klaud spoke.  
  
Alma appeared a little surprised, not particularly sure why Klaud’s tone was so severe. “But it’s so nice out,” Alma said, more inclined to stay out and enjoy the crisp, clear weather.  
  
“It is – but you should get your equipment put back if you’re not using it,” Klaud reasoned.  
  
Alma blinked. “I guess you’re right…” He agreed. He was a tad reluctant though, as he couldn’t help but notice something in Klaud’s voice that made him wonder if something were going on.  
  
In the back of his mind, Alma then recalled what Suman had said the night before about finding something. Alma had meant to ask once they had returned to the castle, but by that time it had been so late that the topic had slipped his mind all together.  
  
Walking alongside Klaud, Alma decided to bring it up. “Suman said that he and Toma found something.”  
  
Klaud looked over at Alma, eyebrow raised.  They had just made it inside, and were walking down the hall to where the training room would be.  
  
Alma shifted a little, when he saw the odd look Klaud was giving him. He briefly shifted his focus to Lau Shimin.  “Ah, we didn’t talk about it much,” Alma clarified.  “When it came up we were outside the castle, and Suman didn’t want to say much about it.  But it was getting so late by the time we got back that it just never came up again…”  
  
Silently, Klaud understood what it was that Suman must have been referring to.  She turned to face forward as the two of them walked down the hall, answering Alma.  “They did.  Though it’s nothing you should worry too much about.”  
  
A curious look passed through Alma’s large eyes.  He knew that it probably wasn’t  _necessary_  for him to know – he actually wasn’t that involved in the affairs of exorcists, though he anticipated he’d have to be sooner or later.  Being a part of the royal family indicated the inevitable fact that Alma would at some point need to attend the council meetings – especially when his mother and stepfather could no longer do so.  
  
Really, Alma should have started attending already, but his mother seemed resistant to the idea.  Alma wasn’t entirely sure why.  
  
Glancing over at Klaud, Alma decided to gamble an inquiry.  “Was it innocence?” He asked, unable to quell his own curiosity.  
  
Klaud stopped walking, the sharp clicking of her boots ceasing. When she turned, Alma could feel himself freeze up a little at the intensity of her stare – like two amethysts, gleaming and startling in their brilliance.  
  
Alma could never quite get over how piercing Klaud’s eyes were. Somehow, they had a sense of _knowing_ to them – as though they belonged to someone who had seen more than they should have. It often made Alma wonder about what all Klaud knew.  
  
Finally, Klaud answered. “Yes, it was,” She said. “But again – you shouldn’t worry yourself too much over it. It’s safe.”  
  
Alma’s eyes filled with intrigue, as he quickly caved into his own curiosity. “What kind of innocence is it?” He began to ask. “Do you have any idea if you’ll find an accommodator for it? What does it _look_ like?”  
  
The questions spilled out with ease, though Alma couldn’t help himself. He always found innocence to be fascinating, though he had never actually seen any save for the kind that Klaud and Suman possessed, as well as those belonging to other exorcists who had come from other kingdoms from time to time. That was something of a rarity though – the amount of actual exorcists was so miniscule, that the royal families were cautious to keep a certain number divided at all times in different areas. And as for Klaud and Suman, they didn’t activate their innocence aside from when they were training – not unless they were on assignments.  
  
Amusement gleamed in Klaud’s eyes as she listened to the prince’s eager questions. “Always so curious,” She mused.  
  
Pink colored Alma’s cheeks. “I’ve just always wondered…the few other times you ever found something, the innocence was always transported to Lyons pretty quickly after.”  
  
“Yes, well the council does like to be thorough in procuring innocence securely,” Klaud noted. “I imagine someone will be sent to collect it soon. As of now, we’re not sure what form it’ll take until an accommodator is found for it.”  
  
Alma nodded in understanding, though his mind was still turning with questions. He often wondered just how it was accommodators were selected, such as Klaud and Suman. Alma had never been quite bold enough to blatantly ask them how they had first synchronized though – somehow, Alma had a feeling that it was something immensely personal. It was something that even his own curiosity would dare not touch, and he instinctively tended to pull back from.  
  
“I have a few things I need to attend to,” Klaud spoke up. “But we can pick this back up later.”  
  
She motioned for Lau Shimin, and without any hesitation the monkey jumped from Alma’s shoulder to Klaud.  
  
Klaud stroked the little monkey’s head, as she looked at Alma a final time. Then, she walked off, leaving Alma alone.  
  
Alma didn’t move immediately, and instead watched as Klaud walked on, disappearing around the corner. He then started to walk in another direction, as he needed to still return his archery equipment.  
  
He had only walked a few paces, when Alma felt a sudden inclination to stop walking. He frowned, not entirely certain as to where the instinct was coming from – but it was as though some outwardly force was causing him to still, and his whole body was placed on edge.  
  
_‘That feeling…’_ Alma thought, not entirely sure where to place it. It reminded him of the peculiar feeling he had experienced in his dream though, and what he thought he may have felt just before running into Klaud that morning.  
  
_‘But…it couldn’t actually_ be _anything, could it?’_ Alma wondered, as he forced himself to keep on walking.  
  
It wasn’t as though Alma had never had an odd dream in the past, but this just felt…different.  
  
_"Find me._ _”_  
  
Alma froze. Again, it had not been like an actual voice, yet the words were seared into him, scratching at the back of his mind like sharp, tiny nails. Loud. Too loud to ignore.  
  
But there was no one around. Klaud had left, and Alma couldn’t _see_ anyone – as far as he could tell, he was entirely alone.  
  
Alma waited, and listened. He listened for anything.  
  
But the hall was silent, and there were no more voices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to one of my dear friends, who is celebrating her birthday this week (AND HER NEW JOB AJKLDAJSDLKSA CONGRATS LOVELY)! <3
> 
> I have to say, again it’s not the most exciting chapter. I may have said this in my last note, but things won’t quite quick off for a while (although chapter four will get some excitement, so at least that’s on the way). There’s still quite a bit of world building and establishment, a lot of which focuses on Alma’s life as a royal before the plot starts to snowball.
> 
> I really wanted to focus a bit on the family relationships, since it’s play more of a role throughout the story. There’s a bit of a weird, triangular dynamic between Alma, Sheril, and Tricia, and I have no idea how it’s going to come across to other people, but I can definitely say it’s really fascinating for me to write. (Maybe I’m weird though – but I just find it engaging. XD)
> 
> Klaud is also in this chapter a bit, which I liked. Her character in general is someone I don’t write enough of, and I’m just happy to have her in this AU.
> 
> Hopefully, you all enjoyed this chapter! <3 I might add more notes to this one later on, but for now I think this is good. I am trying to drop some hints here and there to keep things interesting, but ahhhh, if anyone has read Lotus in the Snow, they know I tend to like my slow buildup to the moment where all hell will eventually break loose. XD
> 
> Happy (almost) weekend!


	4. The Visitors

It was getting late when they arrived.  Night had already fallen, and the kingdom had grown quiet.    
  
Only the sound of the hooves could be heard.  They trotted along steadily: several horses as they pulled a carriage along, through the streets and at an even pace.  It was a modest means of transportation, unsuspecting and plain.  Easy to forget, and hardly worth remembering.  
  
Inside the carriage, the curtain of the window was pulled aside by a semi-gloved hand as one of the occupants peered out.  
  
On the opposite seat in the carriage sat Bookman.  He stared at the other individual, eyes shrewd.  “Keep it closed, Lavi.”  
  
Lavi’s gaze moved over to Bookman – although his left eye was obstructed with a black eyepath, leaving only the one emerald iris visible.  He raised an eyebrow.  “And miss the sightseeing?  That takes the fun out of traveling.”  
  
Bookman scoffed.  “Don’t be a brat, and close the curtain.  It’s too dark to see as it is.”  
  
“Okay, okay – seesh, don’t get so snappy, Gramps,” Lavi spoke.  He removed his hand from the curtain, causing it to fall back into place while his attention flickered back to the window.  “Seems like a nice place though.  We should visit here more often.”  
  
“Don’t be a fool.  You know perfectly well appearances are the last thing you can trust,” Bookman scolded.  “Treat this as you would any other assignment.”  
  
Lavi rolled his eye.  “Yeah, yeah….I hear you,” He mumbled.  “Just trying to keep this trip a  _little_  upbeat.”  
  
Bookman’s mouth formed a tight line.  His eyes moved over to the obstructed window.  “Stay on your guard,” He warned.  “Now’s now the time for anyone to lose focus.”  
  
Hearing this, Lavi’s expression shifted.  The lightheartedness that had just painted his expression darkened a shade, and his gaze grew cool.  “What’s this royal family like?” Lavi asked.  “They’re one of the few I haven’t met yet.”  
  
Bookman paused, before answering.  “It matters not what they’re like.  A bookman should never trust anyone,” He explained.  “The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”  
  
Lavi was silent as he took in the older man’s words.   _“A bookman should never trust anyone.”_   Such a chilling lesson, and one that Lavi had heard for all of his life.  
  
The rest of the ride, both men were silent.  


* * *

  
  
When Alma showed up for dinner, he wondered if perhaps tonight would have been a night worth skipping.  
  
The past two nights Alma had made an effort to go, only because the last time he had skipped had been when his mother and stepfather had actually   _wanted_  to speak with him; after that, Alma couldn’t help but feel a bit scrutinized for not going.  Not that he wouldn’t have missed a night eventually – but at least for a while Alma wanted to actually show up so no one would be able to say much to him on the subject.  
  
By no one, Alma was predominantly referring to Sheril.  His mother was more lenient, but Alma’s stepfather was  _notorious_ for his critical eye.  
  
However, when Alma saw it was  _only_ Sheril at the dining table, he had to fight the urge to turn on his heel and leave before the man could see him.  
  
Alma scolded himself.   _‘Don’t be silly – stop acting like you’re a kid already.’_  
  
Sometimes, it was a challenge for Alma to even remember he was actually eighteen around Sheril, and essentially a young adult.  He wasn’t certain how one person could have that much influence to where they made him feel like such a  _child_ , but Sheril had evidently mastered such.   
  
Once seated at the table, Alma was tempted to distinctly avoid Sheril’s gaze.  Instead, his  focus wandered over to the seat his mother would normally occupy.  “Was Mother not feeling well?”  
  
Sheril looked up, eyes catching Alma’s like a raven’s talons.  “No, she wasn’t.  She decided to retire early,” Sheril answered.  “The physician will be coming to check in on her in the morning.”  
  
Alma nodded, though he couldn’t ignore the concern he felt.  “Do you think it’s serious?”  
  
Sheril paused, a somewhat contemplative look passing over his expression.  “No,” He answered.  “I don’t believe it’s anything to be alarmed over.”  
  
Alma did his best to swallow his worries.  It wasn’t the first time that his mother had needed to retire early due to not feeling well; she always seemed so tired and weak.  But, at the very least Sheril  _seemed_ like he was keeping a solid eye on her.  If anything, Alma had to give his stepfather some credit; Sheril  _was_  attentive to Tricia. Alma liked to believe that it must have been a sign of some good will if any.  
  
Without saying much else, Alma started to eat his food.  Until Sheril unexpectedly broke the silence.  
  
“I saw you were practicing your archery this evening,” Sheril commented.  “You’re practicing later now?”  
  
The inquiry caught Alma a little off guard, and his blue eyes shifted over to Sheril uncertainly.  “Um,” Alma started to say, not having anticipated Sheril to spark any conversation, “Yeah.  Klaud thought it’d be good for me to practice shooting when it’s dark out so I don’t just get used to doing it in daylight.  She says it helps with coordination and aim.”  
  
Sheril nodded.  “I see,” He noted before returning to his meal.  “Perhaps you should invest in an actual instructor though.  It may be more beneficial.”  
  
Alma, who had by this point been pushing around his food with his fork, stopped.  His brow raised a bit in bewilderment as he looked at Sheril.  “Why?” He asked, unable to hide his surprise at the suggestion.  
  
“Klaud is the exorcist general.  She has other priorities than to help you with this archery sport you enjoy so much,” Sheril pointed out.  “Besides, you should be focusing on other things rather than following exorcists around.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything to this – mostly because he had no idea  _what_  to say.  Yes, he knew that Klaud was a general and had other things to take care of, but surely it wasn’t  _that_  problematic that she had been helping Alma with his archery?  
  
Averting his gaze, Alma continued to push around his food, no longer all that hungry.  “I don’t see why it’s an issue if I spend time with Klaud or Suman,” Alma finally managed, though his words came out in more of a murmur.  “Anyways, Klaud would  _tell_  me if it were a problem…”  
  
“Hn.  She may, or she may not.  You can never be too sure with people,” Sheril responded coolly.  
  
Alma had to bite his tongue.  He didn’t agree with what Sheril was saying, but he also didn’t want anything to escalate at the table.   _‘Just leave it alone.  It’s not worth arguing with him about it,’_  Alma tried to tell himself.   _‘He’s…probably just trying to be helpful…in his own weird way…’_  
  
Alma found that last thought hard to believe, but he made himself keep quiet regardless.  
  
Silence fell over the dinner table, which Alma was honestly grateful for.  Typically, that much silence would make him uneasy, but in this situation it was a blessing.  An awkward, somewhat tense blessing, but a blessing nevertheless.  
  
Although, Alma’s appetite  _had_  been somewhat ruined.  His stomach felt like it was in a knot, and he was also just  _tired_  – more so than he had been moments before.  Alma imagined this probably had to do with the poor sleep he had been receiving the past few days.  Ever since he had that odd  _dream-_  
  
_“You need to find me.”_  
  
A shudder threatened to ripple down Alma’s spine.   _‘Not now,’_  He silently pleaded, not wanting that eerie sensation to return – or whatever it was.  Alma hadn’t felt it much since that initial day, but every once in a while it seemed to return with full force, with those ghostly words branding themselves into the forefront of Alma’s mind.  
  
“Alma.”  
  
Sheril’s voice, somewhat sharp, broke through Alma’s thoughts.  A little startled by the firmness in which his stepfather spoke, Alma looked over at the man questioningly.  
  
When Alma did this, he could see a faint trace of impatience in Sheril’s expression.  Inwardly, Alma felt his nerves somersault, and wondered if he had unknowingly offended the man.   
  
“Um…yeah?” Alma asked somewhat hesitantly, not sure if he  _wanted_  to know what was wrong.  
  
Sheril exhaled.  “I asked if something was troubling you.  You seem quite absent-minded tonight.”  
  
Alma’s face flushed a little, and he averted his gaze.  “Sorry…I think I just have a lot on my mind.”  
  
“Anything you wish to discuss?”  
  
Alma shook his head.  “No, it’s nothing that important,” He spoke, though the excuse sounded weak in his own ears.    
  
Sheril didn’t look as though he believed Alma either; his eyes remained astute and were laced with skepticism.  But, the man didn’t press for any further details.  
  
There was more silence that followed, and Alma looked over at one of the clocks on the wall.  He debated on excusing himself right there, and just turning in for the evening.  Hardly any time had passed since he had sat down, but the minutes were dragging by at a painfully  _slow_  rate.    
  
_‘It already feels like an hour has passed…’_  Alma thought, as he still debated on whether leaving early would be worth it.  
  
The door opened, and a guard came in.  He didn’t announce his purpose aloud, even when Alma’s eyes reached him uncertainly.  Instead, the guard went over to Sheril, and whispered something to him that Alma couldn’t make out.  
  
“I didn’t realize they were arriving tonight,” Sheril murmured with a disapproving edge in his words.  He sighed.  “I’ll speak with them.”  
  
Sheril left after that, without so much as sparing Alma any glance – or any kind of acknowledgment for that matter.    
  
Alma attempted to think back.  Had Tricia or Sheril indicated they were expecting visitors?  Not that Alma could recall, unless they simply hadn’t mentioned it.   There was that one cousin who was supposed to come, but Sheril hadn’t seemed thrilled with whoever it was that had arrived – so it couldn’t have been her, could it?  
  
_‘Weird,’_  Alma thought, wondering if maybe he was missing something more obvious.  But, his mind was in enough of a fog as it was, and the more Alma thought about it the more appealing his bed sounded.  
  
Leaving the dining room, Alma started off back to where the bedrooms were when-  
  
_“Find me.  You have to find me.”  
  
_ Again.  Alma was feeling that pull  _again_.  
  
Hair prickling on the back of his neck, Alma looked around.  He was beginning to wonder if he was just losing his mind or something.  It had been…what?  About three days since the odd dreams and voice had started?  It had somewhat diminished since the first day, but now the pull felt as strong as the first time – if not stronger.  
  
_“I’m this way.”_  
  
A different message this time – one that was more directional.  Alma glanced down the hall, or at least the hall he  _thought_  the strange call was coming from.    
  
Alma hesitated.   A part of him wanted to just ignore it, as he had been attempting to do ever since the voice started to haunt him.  However, there was another part of him that was also aware of how poorly that plan of action had been working, and wanted him to just find out just what it was.    
  
…Unless Alma  _was_  going crazy.  
  
_‘Just…see what it is.  Maybe it’ll stop if you look,’_  Alma thought to himself.  
  
God, Alma  _hoped_  it would stop.  It was beginning to creep him out.  
  
Alma began to walk down the hallway, as he tried to gage just where it was he was being drawn to.  This was the first time that he had actually had any sense of where the sensation was leading him to though, and Alma felt a small tinge of optimism that maybe it would stop after he got to…well, wherever it was that the pull was trying to take him.  
  
As Alma continued on, he noticed that the words had grown quiet in his head – a good sign, he hoped.  However, the  _feeling_ was just as strong as ever – if not stronger.    
  
A small frown fell over Alma’s expression.  He noticed he was in one of the wings of the castle that he didn’t normally enter, usually because he had no reason to.    _‘This is where is getting close to where the exorcists keep any findings the council may be interested in…’_ Alma noticed, not sure why he was being drawn to  _this_  location of all places.  
  
Alma stopped.  Faintly, he heard voices.  Not like what had been inside his head, but actual _voices_.  
  
Alma slowed his pace as he tried to listen.  Whoever was speaking was just around the corner, though the voice was unfamiliar to Alma.  
  
Then, another voice spoke – this one that Alma  _did_  know.  
  
“It’s been safely procured,” Sheril was saying – although to who, Alma had no idea.  “I didn’t expect you to be arriving quite this soon though.”  
  
“Yes, well you of all people should understand why the council is so diligent in making sure that any innocence found is safely maintained,” An older voice replied.  “You  _were_  the one who harped on what a risk innocence could be, despite it being a weapon exorcists use.”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened.  Of course – how could he have been so dense?  Suman had just retrieved innocence a few days ago, and Klaud had even  _said_  that someone would be arriving to take it back to Lyons.  
  
“Innocence is quite powerful, and exorcists are humans – flawed, and prone to failure,” Sheril replied.  “Given your role, you should understand that rather thoroughly, Bookman.”  
  
_‘Bookman came?’_   Alma thought, as he was tempted to poke his head around the corner and look.  He had seen the older man on only  a few occasions, but Alma never had spoken with him much – not anything more than a customary exchange of greetings at best.    
  
Alma swallowed.  He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping to begin with, let alone on a conversation such as this one.  Alma turned, with the intent to leave-  
  
…And of course, somehow lost his footing and tripped.  
  
Eyes wide, Alma caught himself from falling.  He internally cursed his clumsiness, as he had unavoidably made some noise as his hand slapped against the wall, loud and doubtlessly giving away his presence.   _‘Crap!’_  
  
Alma held his breath, as the speaking around the corner drew to a halt.    
  
“Who’s there?” Sheril’s demanded, his words slicing through the air.  
  
Releasing his breath, Alma knew he couldn’t very well sneak away now.  He did his best to compose himself before he walked around the corner, only to be faced with several pairs of eyes.  
  
_‘Awkward, awkward,_ awkward _!’_  Alma could feel himself silently panic, though he could only pray that the unease wasn’t too apparent on his face.  
  
Irritation flashed in Sheril’s eyes, before he swiftly masked the annoyance, his expression becoming more collected.    “Alma,” Sheril acknowledged frostily.  
  
His stepfather didn’t say anymore, but Alma could see the look of expectancy in Sheril’s dark eyes.  Clearly, the man was awaiting an explanation.    
  
“I thought I heard something,” Alma spoke, trying his best to keep his own words firm.  It technically wasn’t a lie, although Alma  _was_ quietly praying that he wouldn’t get questioned too extensively on the matter. “I didn’t realize you were speaking to anyone down here.”  
  
It was at this point Alma noticed that there was another person present – one who had not yet spoken.  He was young, and probably around Alma’s age if not a year or so older at best, and had freckled skin with a mop of startling red hair.  He also had an eye patch, though Alma tried not to stare too much at that detail.  
  
The redhead caught Alma’s gaze, and Alma tried to avert his focus.  But he was a second too late, and knew that the other young man had noticed him staring.  
  
Sheril didn’t appear all that pleased with Alma’s explanation, but didn’t comment further on it.  “I see,” He stated dully, before his attention returned to Bookman and the other individual.  “Bookman – you’ve met my stepson before, if I recall?”  
  
“Yes, though it’s been a while,” Bookman said.  He then nodded over to the younger man beside him.  “This is my apprentice, Lavi. Lavi, this is Prince Alma.”  
  
Lavi grinned – a pleasant change given the severity that both Bookman and Sheril harbored.  
  
Sheril faced Alma.  “Since you’re here, maybe you could show Bookman’s apprentice to a room,” He proposed.  “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with Bookman privately.”  
  
Lavi raised an eyebrow hearing this, and looked over at Bookman.   
  
“Go on.  I’ll catch up with you in the morning,” Bookman reassured.  
  
Lavi didn’t appear all that certain, but shrugged.  “Alright then.  Guess the kids are off to bed,” He said, as he turned to Alma.  “Lead the way, your highness –  _ow_!”  
  
The back of Lavi’s head was smacked  by Bookman’s hand.  Bookman frowned disapprovingly.    
  
Lavi turned to Bookman, mouth agape.  “W-What was that for!?”  
  
“Show some respect,” Bookman clipped.  “And for once, try not to be such an insolent brat.”  
  
“Okay, just don’t don’t  _attack_ me again,” Lavi grumbled.  
  
Alma had to bring his hand up to his mouth, to stifle a small laugh.  He realized it would have been rude to let it slip out, and knew that he was being rather impolite for even finding the interaction a bit humorous in the first place.    
  
Fortunately, Alma was able to contain himself, and quickly focused on the task at hand.  “This way,” He said to Lavi, with an amiable smile.  
  
Lavi followed Alma, leaving the other two men behind.  It was a relief; Alma had felt awkward enough happening upon them as it was, and for once he was grateful for Sheril’s suggestion.  It helped that Lavi didn’t seem quite as intense as Sheril and Bookman either, and the air was already beginning to ease up.  
  
“So,” Lavi started suddenly, “Nice place you got here.  Never been to Engelus before.”  
  
Alma blinked, and looked over at Lavi.  “Ah, thanks,” He said.  “Are you and Bookman going to stay a while? You probably couldn’t see much with it being so dark out –  it’s a lot nicer during the daytime.”  
  
“It’s whatever the old panda wants to do.  I’m kind of at his mercy if you couldn’t tell,” Lavi commented with a lopsided smile.  
  
Oh, Alma could _definitely_ tell – and it truly had been an amusing sight.  Humor sparkled in his eyes.  “Seems like he has an iron fist.  But that must be really interesting being his apprentice!  I bet you get to travel to so many places – do you have a favorite?” He asked eagerly.  “Or maybe not because it’s probably hard to pick.  I don’t know if I’d be able to!”  
  
Lavi stared, momentarily having to take in the series of comments and inquiries Alma was throwing his way.  But, his expression relaxed as his gaze met Alma’s.  “It has its perks,” He noted in reference to being an apprentice.  “Definitely a lot to take in, and everywhere has some pros and cons.”  
  
Lavi paused, then added, “Except Bovia.  That place is too cold.  Too much snow, and I was there when it was considered  _mild_  too.”  
  
Focus still on Alma, a flicker of curiosity danced in Lavi’s one visible iris.  “Don’t travel much?”  
  
Alma shook his head, returning his attention forward as they walked on.  “No…I’ve been to Lyons once, but I was so young that I can barely remember what that was like.”  
  
Lavi raised an eyebrow.  “Not even to Arcaia?  I figured you’d at least have visited there since that’s where Sheril’s from, right?”  
  
Alma paused.  “Um, no…I haven’t been there either,” Alma finally admitted.  He had never really considered it, but now that Lavi had brought it up, Alma couldn’t help but wonder if it were odd that he had never visited where his stepfather was from.  He hadn’t even interacted with Sheril’s side of the family, and hardly knew anything about what they were like.  
  
A thoughtful hum escaped Lavi.  “I gotcha,” He said.  “I actually haven’t been either – old panda has gone though.”  
  
Blinking, Alma looked at Lavi with mild confusion.  “Why didn’t you go?”  
  
“Ever since that whole fiasco two years ago, the Campbell House isn’t exactly as trusting of exorcists anymore.  Bookmen are sort of an exception, but you know.   _Politics_.”  
  
Alma grew quiet at this.  He knew what Lavi was referring to: the incident where the whole exorcist unit in Arcaia had essentially fallen apart, and one had supposedly gone crazy or something.  Alma could still remember what a huge deal it had been, and how…tense things had started to feel afterward.  At least, regarding the exorcists.  
  
That was also when Alma had started to noticed more of how Sheril just…didn’t seem to like exorcists.    
  
They reached the guest rooms, where Alma quickly located an available one for Lavi.  “This can be your room while you stay here.  And there’s always at least one person around, in case you need anything,” Alma said, before adding, “If Bookman doesn’t drag you away too quickly, I could always show you around a bit tomorrow since you haven’t been here before.”  
  
“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a tour,” Lavi said.  “We can do a trade – you show me around, and I’ll tell you more about some of the places I’ve been to.”  
  
Alma’s expression lit up, as excitement brimmed in his eyes.  “That would be amazing!” He exclaimed, thrilled by the idea of getting to ask someone about places outside of the kingdom.  In the back of his mind, Alma also recalled Jaime, and how he would even be able to share with her anything Lavi told him.  
  
“I should probably let you rest now,” Alma spoke when he noticed that he was probably keeping Lavi.  “But I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
Lavi grinned.  “Yeah.  I’ll be looking forward to it.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“What did you want to discuss, Sheril?” Bookman asked.  
  
Sheril rested a hand on a desk, as he briefly closed his eyes.  They had gone into a study, closed off and away from any prying eyes – or ears.  It was a modest space in comparison to some of the other castle rooms, but still large enough that there was a comfortable distance between Bookman and Sheril.  
  
Which was good – neither of the two seemed inclined to get all that near each other, and neither Sheril nor Bookman kept their gaze off of the other for too long.  
  
Eyes opening, Sheril’s dark irises loomed on Bookman.  “I was wondering – you will be taking the innocence back to Lyons soon, I presume?”  
  
Bookman kept his expression unreadable, but his eyes seemed to harden.  “Yes, preferably as soon as possible.  Tomorrow would be ideal, but the CROWs who came with us will need to rest,” He stated.  “It won’t do us any good to have weakened guards return it.”  
  
“No, of course not,” Sheril replied fluidly.  “But by all means – you should stay as long as you need to.  Perhaps you should even wait until after the Autumn Ball.  It’s only a few days away, and several other royals will be attending.”  
  
The thin line that Bookman’s lips made seemed to harden at hearing this, but Sheril continued.  “Several royals will be attending, and Lvellier will be one of them.  I’m sure he’d be more than obliging to send some additional CROWs to ensure safe transportation of the innocence.”  
  
Bookman did not respond immediately, but continued to keep his expression guarded.  The way Sheril spoke was silk-smooth, like water trickling down a serpent’s back, and it slivered up Bookman’s spine unpleasantly.    
  
“I’m sure he would,” Bookman agreed evenly.  “Though, it may not be such a bad idea.  I did want to speak with Queen Tricia before my apprentice and I departed.”  
  
There was a small pause, and Bookman continued.  “I had anticipated the queen would have been the one to greet us.  Hopefully she is alright?”  
  
Sheril smiled.  “Just a bit worn out tonight, though I imagine she’ll be well enough to speak tomorrow.”  
  
Bookman nodded.  “I see then,” He said.  “I should probably be turning in then – I’ll want to address this all sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Most certainly,” Sheril said, before leading Bookman out of the study.    
  
By the door, a guard was stationed.  Sheril addressed him.  “See that Bookman here is given a room – preferably whatever is closest to where his apprentice was placed.”  
  
The guard nodded, as he then led Bookman off to where the guest rooms where.  
  
Once alone, Sheril returned to the study.  It was dark, and the room was only illuminated by a single candle – faint, and flickering.  He sat down in a chair, close to a mirror that was hanging on the wall.  The light danced inside it, and dangled about entrancingly.  
  
Sheril’s eyes glanced over to the corner of the room, where his lips upturned.  “I know you’re there.  You shouldn’t be so shy when it’s only us.”  
  
There was a shift of movement, and something crept out of the darkness.   
  
A black cat – small, and unnoticeable.  Bright yellow eyes.  A long tail.  
  
A silver cross upon its forehead, and a ribbon around its neck.  
  
The cat silently made its way over to Sheril with a remarkable grace, swift and silent.  It jumped onto Sheril’s lap, where it then rested its body, lying down as Sheril stroked a hand over its head.    
  
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Sheril noted.  “Did someone send you to check on me?”  
  
The cat paused, and looked up at Sheril as it meowed.  
  
Sheril grinned.  “Tell him not to worry.  I have everything under control,” He reassured, as he continued to pet the cat.  “Even if Bookman takes the innocence tomorrow, it won’t make it to Lyons.”  
  
Another meow.  
  
“Road is still coming?  Good – I miss her,” Sheril continued on.  “It would have been a shame to have to tell my wife she was no longer going to visit.  I haven’t seen her in so long.”  
  
The cat responded with only purring, as it lowered its head, and closed its eyes.  
  
Another smile.  “You should visit more often, Lulu Bell,” Sheril offered.  “We’re family.”  
  
The cat only continued to purr soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this isn’t the most exciting chapter - it’s not as long as some as the others on the way, and again is more world building and foundational things/setup up. Except we have Lavi, so there’s an exciting addition! Originally, I didn’t really plan on having him be in this story much when I first started to plot it, but it turns out he’ll be more present than I anticipated. So happy news for all the Lavi lovers out there. <3 (Though...does anyone not enjoy seeing Lavi? *side eyes Hoshino*)
> 
> I don’t have as much to comment here, although we also get some Alma and Sheril interaction. Since these characters don’t really interact much in canon, I felt it was important to show some moments with them together, and work on fleshing them out so people can get a good feel for the types of people they are. Hopefully they seem to fall somewhat in line with their canon counterparts, but since this is an AU I’m doing what I can to adjust how they may interact accordingly if that makes any sense. There’s definitely a fair amount of tension between them, given the personality clash.
> 
> Also, I’m sure it’s no surprise that the cat was Lulu Bell. So no comment there. XD 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this! Again, I know it wasn’t that exciting, but the next chapters are definitely going to be snowballing (I’ve written up to chapter 6 by this point, and would like to finish 7 before posting chapter 4; staying three chapters ahead has been working fairly well for me).
> 
> Feedback and comments welcome as always! <3


	5. A Fragile Synchronicity

_He was in that place again – the one where it was dark, and so incredibly quiet.  
  
Alma looked around. Although his mind was fuzzy and disoriented, he could feel the icy, unyielding familiarity. _ ‘I’ve been here before,’ _Alma remembered, though he wasn’t sure when or how.  
  
Then, he felt it – that oddly distinctive pull, as though a hook had pierced his heart, as it gently tugged. It was a soft, beckoning sensation, and yet it was uncomfortably painful to ignore. ‘_ That feeling…’ _  
  
_ “Will you come find me?” _  
  
Alma stiffened, as the voice’s lulling musicality cut down into his spine. He felt a chill ripple though his body, and in the distance he could see a small glow.  
  
But, Alma hesitated.  
  
_ “You must find me.”  
  
_“What happens when I find you?” Alma asked. “What happens when-“  
  
_ “Find me…”  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma’s eyes opened. He was groggy, and his mind felt as though it were clouded with a thick fog; it even ached a bit, too. Alma grimaced as he brought a hand to his head. The headache wasn’t too horrendous, and Alma imagined it would go away soon enough – but he definitely felt drained, and the sheets were tangled around his legs. Clearly a sign of a fitful slumber.  
  
Tiredly, Alma’s vision tried to adjust – and he quickly noticed it was still dark in his room. He realized it was still nighttime.  
  
Alma exhaled, and fell back onto his bed. He felt exhausted; Alma had hardly slept well the last few nights, and he was thankful that he would have a few more hours at best to try to make up for it.  
  
_‘Another weird dream…’_ Alma thought. It was strange – there had been instances in his life where Alma had experienced odd dreams, but none of them had ever quite been like this one. Lingering, and gently searing itself into the back of his mind. Almost as though it were branding Alma’s mind with some quiet, unspoken truth that he didn’t have the ability to comprehend.  
  
Had Alma been more awake, he might have laughed at his own thoughts. More than likely, it was just something inconsequential that had sparked the dreams.  
  
Alma told himself this. He told himself this again and again. _‘It’s nothing…’_  
  
Rolling onto his side, Alma tried to close his eyes so he could fall back asleep.  If he didn’t try to get whatever rest he could, Alma knew that he would sorely regret it in the morning. Already, a few people had commented on his tiredness in the past few days, or as Sheril liked to say, Alma’s “absent-mindedness.”  Losing any more sleep certainly wouldn’t help.    
  
_‘Come on, just try to sleep,’_ Alma attempted to urge himself.  
  
A few moments passed, but sleep was evasive.  Like water trickling through Alma’s hand, it dripped away, spilling out of his grasp and keeping his consciousness far too active to acquire any peace.  Somewhere, within the recess of his mind, something stirred.  
  
Alma sat up, and ran a hand through his hair.  He was completely worn out, but for whatever reason his mind refused to quiet, leaving him awake and restless.  
  
“I probably won’t even fall asleep for a while now…” Alma murmured to himself, as he quietly cursed his luck.  He inhaled softly, trying his best to clear his mind, as he took in the silence-  
  
A creak could be heard.  
  
It was faint; Alma almost thought that he had imagined it.  Blinking, he looked around.    
  
Silence was heard. Alma was about to write whatever he thought he had heard off as nothing, but then there was another creak.  
  
It was outside his door.  
  
Alma stared, but the noise had quieted again.  Hair standing on the back of his neck, Alma quietly slipped out of bed.  Since he was barefoot, it was easy to keep silent; this was comforting, as for some reason he was wary of making too much noise.  
  
With an edge of caution, Alma approached the door that led into the hall.  He listened, and upon hearing nothing opened it. He winced at how loudly the turning of the knob sounded, but tried not to let it bother him as he pulled the door aside, looking out into the dark hallway.  
  
It was empty.  
  
Alma released a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding, and rubbed his eyes.  As he did this, there was a shift in the darkness.  
  
Alma turned.  Had something moved?  
  
Another shift of movement – something small, and fast.  It was silent too, and close to invisible in the shadows.  But Alma had spied it just as it disappeared down the hallway.  
  
Brow knotting together in confusion, Alma exited his room as he closed the door behind him.  He started down the hallway, keeping his footsteps as light as he could.  Occasionally, there would be a creak, though Alma tried to ignore its distraction.  
  
Soon, Alma reached the end of the corridor.  He looked around, seeking out any signs of movement-  
  
And there was another flash in the darkness.    
  
Alma hesitated.  “Is someone there?” He asked.  He didn’t do so loudly, but the volume was startling in his own ears.  
  
No one answered, but Alma kept on walking.  He knew that he’d seen something, but _what_?  
  
There was a chill in the air, and Alma shivered.  The nights had become draftier with the oncoming arrival of autumn, and Alma almost wished he’d grabbed a night robe prior to leaving his room.    
  
Or, perhaps Alma should have just turned back.  It was so late, and he was close to his parents’ bedchamber now.  The last thing Alma wanted to do was to disturb them by mistake.  
  
_‘Maybe I’m just seeing things…’_  Alma thought, as he made a move to head back to his room.  
  
But, as Alma started to leave, he saw it: something dark, and lingering beneath one of the curtains drawn over the window. _‘What’s that?_ ’  
  
Alma kneeled down, and carefully pulled the curtain aside.  There, perched and with bright yellow eyes, was a cat.  A black one.  
  
“How’d you get in here?” Alma wondered softly, though his eyes quickly went to the ribbon around its neck. It was identical to the one he had seen on the other black cat several days ago when with Suman.    
  
Alma stared, bewilderment in his eyes.   _‘It…can’t be the same one…?’_  
  
Yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness, the cat’s eyes pierced Alma, its slit-like pupils contrasting violently against his irises.    
  
Alma froze, transfixed.  It was almost as though he were paralyzed by those eyes, and were staring into the gaze of a basilisk rather than a feline. Along the back of his neck, he could feel his hair stand.  
  
The cat hissed, and swiped its claws at Alma.  Eyes widening, Alma yelped in surprise as he fell back, while the cat ran passed him as it disappeared into the darkness.  
  
A shaky breath escaped Alma, as he watched where the cat had run off to.  Then, he heard a door open.  
  
“Alma?”  
  
Alma turned, and could see both his mother and stepfather who had just exited their room. Sheril’s expression as usual was hard to read, but Tricia looked concerned. “Alma,” She repeated, “What happened? We heard something.”  
  
Alma felt himself flounder a bit, as he turned, looking for the cat – but it was long gone. “I – there was a _cat_ -“ He started to say, though Alma could already feel himself waver.  
  
Sheril glanced down the hallway, his eyes oddly bright in the darkness. “It doesn’t seem there’s anything around,” He observed coolly. “You probably imagined it – it’s easy to do so at this time of night.”  
  
The dubious edge in Sheril’s voice was apparent enough that Alma did not know if it would be worth arguing – especially given how tired they all probably were. Disagreeing with someone was already unpleasant enough after a _restful_ night, and Alma was loathe to think of how such an incident would be at a time like this.  
  
Alma stood, brushing himself off. “Yeah…you’re probably right,” He agreed, though inside he _knew_ he had seen something. “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to wake you.”  
  
“That’s alright, but you should return to your room,” Sheril pointed out. “Wandering around this time at night will do you no good.”  
  
“Just try to get some rest, alright? We’ll see you in the morning,” Tricia added.  
  
Alma nodded. “Okay,” He said, just before adding, “Uh..goodnight.”  
  
Tricia and Sheril returned to their room after that, closing the door. Alma sighed, and looked around. The hallway was empty, and there were no signs of movement.  
  
After a few seconds, Alma left to return to his room – the whole time trying to ignore the sensation that a pair of eyes was lingering on him.  


* * *

  
  
The room was quiet; it always was. Even when occupied, the air was soft and still – almost as though it were undisturbed satin without a ripple to be seen. There were no windows, and any illumination came from above where crystalline lights were hanged high.  
  
In many ways, it was a peaceful place. In other ways, it wasn’t.  
  
Klaud frowned. Arms crossed, she eyed where the innocence was being kept. The flower was still there, untouched and ethereal in its appearance. It maintained a subdued gleam, like glass-encompassed silver – breathtaking, yet understated.  
  
At least, that was how it appeared for the most part.  
  
It was almost easy to miss: the occasional flicker, and the periodic change in brightness. Had Klaud not had been checking on the innocence as frequently, she very likely might have missed it. The glow was so dim that the luminosity of the innocence was one that she came close to missing – a near error in observation, though fortunately one she had been able to avoid.  
  
A contemplative look surfaced in her eyes, and she placed a slender hand on Lau Shimin’s head. But she said nothing, and merely continued to watch the innocence – occasionally shifting in brightness, before it would return to its normal appearance.  
  
The entrance to the room opened, but Klaud didn’t move. The heavy footsteps were familiar enough that she was able to recognize them with ease.  
  
Besides, she knew who it was already – she had been the one to call for Suman.  
  
Suman looked over to where Klaud was, and saw that she was watching the innocence carefully. “You wanted to see me about something?”  
  
Klaud continued to stare at the innocence, but spoke. “It looks like a lotus,” She noted. “The type of flower it resembles.”  
  
Suman raised and eyebrow, then walked over to were Klaud was. He looked at the innocence. “Kind of odd. Lotuses aren’t really common in this region.”  
  
Klaud’s eyes flickered over to Suman, then back to the innocence. “Notice anything unsual?”  
  
The question was posed with ease, but it caused Suman’s brow to furrow in confusion. Glancing back at the innocence, he looked carefully. Admittedly, Suman wasn’t sure just what it was that Klaud might have been referring to. The innocence looked just as it had the day he had retrieved it-  
  
Then, he saw it: the slight glow, wavering and fragile.  
  
“It wasn’t making any light after I brought it back,” Suman realized. He looked at Klaud. “How long as it been doing this?”  
  
“Not sure. I only noticed it this morning,” Klaud explained. “It’s not that noticeable, so for all we know it may have been going on for a few days.”  
  
Suman’s frown deepened. “You don’t think it’s unstable, do you?”  
  
Klaud’s answer was delayed, if only for a second. Her response came evenly. “You can never tell with innocence – even when it’s synchronized,” She pointed out, before angling her face to more directly speak to Suman. “Something or someone is triggering it though.”  
  
It only took a beat for Suman to understand what Klaud was implying. “Like an accommodator?”  
  
“Perhaps,” Klaud answered. “But I’d rather we not assume such for certain. We need to bring this up to Bookman first.”  
  
“What about the queen?” Suman asked. “Shouldn’t we let her know right away as well?”  
  
Klaud hesitated, and looked back at the innocence. Once again, it brightened just before fading back to normal. She shook her head. “No,” Klaud answered. “Since Bookman is here, we’ll go to him first.”  
  
Suman was still, but finally nodded his head. “Understood,” He said, as he too eyed the flower. “Wonder who’s triggering it…”  
  
“Not sure,” Klaud said. “But if it is a possible accommodator, then they’re close. And we need to find out who it is.”  


* * *

  
_‘So…damn…tired….’_ Alma thought, as he tried _desperately_ to keep his eyes open.    
  
It was easier said than done. After the bizarre incident the previous night with the cat (which Alma _knew_ he had seen for certain), his sleep had been far from restless – even less so than the last few nights.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
Alma looked over at Lavi, who was eying Alma uncertainly. The two had been walking, with Alma showing Lavi the castle grounds. They had just been on their way inside, after having just been to the courtyard. Lavi had been in the midst of explaining what it was like in the country of Ying, but had now stopped.  
  
Alma immediately felt guilty; he knew he had been spacing out. “I zoned out, didn’t I?” He asked, before exhaling. “I’m sorry – I didn’t really get much sleep last night.”  
  
“You do kind of look like you’re about to fall over and crash any second now,” Lavi pointed out. There was a joking edge to his voice, which helped to keep the mood light. “I was going to say I hope I’m not _that_ boring.”  
  
“No, no, no!” Alma quickly countered, not wanting Lavi to actually think Alma had no interest in what he was saying. “No, it’s _really_ fascinating! I just…it was a weird night. I swear it’s not you.”  
  
Lavi blinked. “Hey, don’t worry,” Lavi said, somewhat nonchalantly. “I’ve had a few of those – especially when Bookman is keeping my ass up translating things that are probably older than he is.   Which is…pretty old.”  
  
Expression shifting, Lavi looked over at Alma curiously. “Anyways, how was it weird? You have a bizarre dream or something?”  
  
Alma wavered, somewhat hesitating with his answer. He wasn’t entirely sure what to share and what not to, especially regarding the dreams he had been having. The frequency of them was also beginning to unnerve him a little.  
  
“Sort of. I’ve been having this weird dream the last few nights,” Alma admitted. “But it was strange because I woke up at one point, and there was this _cat_ in the hallway.”  
  
Lavi’s eyebrow raised. “A…cat?”  
  
Alma nodded his head. “Yeah! It was black, and it had these yellow eyes and this ribbon around its neck. I have no idea how it got inside, but it looked like one I’d seen outside not too long ago…”  
  
Lavi scratched his head thoughtfully. “It probably got in through an open window. Cats do weird stuff like that all the time.”  
  
The explanation was both simple, and logical. For a small animal, Alma realized there were a lot of ways it might have gotten into the castle. It didn’t explain the coincidence that Alma recalled seeing the cat before, but…perhaps he was overthinking it.  
  
“So, what about these dreams of yours?” Lavi asked, as he interrupted Alma’s train of thought. “You’re just having a reoccurring one?”  
  
Alma shrugged. “I guess you could call it that. It just…feels so _real_ ,” He spoke, suddenly filled the desire to tell someone about what he had been experiencing. “I always hear a voice, but then it’s not exactly a voice? Sort of like something’s communicating with me…”  
  
There was only silence to answer Alma, and when he looked he could see Lavi staring at him with a peculiar expression.  
  
Instantly, Alma felt his face heat up a bit. “Ah, that probably sounds really crazy though!” He swiftly added, hoping that Lavi wouldn’t find his ramblings _too_ ludicrous. “I’m…sure it probably doesn’t mean anything.”  
  
Lavi hummed. “Mm. I wouldn’t say it’s _crazy_. Like I’ve seen crazy, and you’re not crazy,” He pointed out. “Definitely bizarre, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”  
  
It was a mildly comforting response at best, though Alma still wondered if he should have been more wary of what he said. The whole dream thing probably didn’t sound entirely crazy to Lavi because Alma had left out the part about hearing the voice even when he was awake – which was something he didn’t plan on delving into.  
  
“What’s everyone getting ready for?” Lavi asked, as he changed the subject.  
  
Alma looked to see what Lavi was referring to, and spied several castle servants putting up decorations near where the entrance hall was. The servants were far from reaching the end results, but already had gotten a fair amount of things placed and re-organized. The color scheme being used was warm, and those predominantly associated with the fall season.  
  
“Oh, that’s for the Autumn Ball. It’s just a few days away now- are you and Bookman staying for it?” Alma asked, before adding eagerly, “You should! It’ll be a lot of fun, and it’d be great to have you there!”  
  
“Yeah? Well if you put it like that, I’ll just have to tell the old man we can’t possibly leave. I mean, it’d be an _insult_ to turn down a royal invite, right?” Lavi pointed out dramatically. “Can’t possibly risk doing that.”  
  
Alma laughed. “I promise I wouldn’t actually hold it over your head if you guys can’t-“  
  
“No, no – _please_ hold it over my head,” Lavi encouraged. “Seriously, I need some kind of break because it’s like we’ve been going non-stop for I don’t know how long now.”  
  
Alma blinked. “Wow, it really gets that stressful?” He asked, though as soon as the inquiry left his mouth Alma realized it made sense. Truthfully, Alma didn’t know much about the Bookman Clan – not many people did. They worked closely with the council, and kept records of major events, but essentially, they kept a lot to themselves.  
  
“It’s not something for the faint-hearted. I’ll say that much,” Lavi said. “Being an exorcist on top of a bookman-in-training isn’t something I ever would have been ignorant enough to assume was easy though.”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened in surprised. “You’re an exorcist too?” He asked, somewhat shocked to hear this. He hadn’t realized that Lavi was an accommodator, although Alma was aware that Bookman was able to use innocence in some way.  
  
“Ah, yeah,” Lavi responded, before giving a sheepish grin. “Hopefully that’s not an issue or anything.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Alma asked.  
  
Lavi paused, as the jovial nature of his expression dissolved a bit. He eyed Alma, almost carefully – as though he were suddenly watching for something specific. “There’s been some tension between the royals and exorcists. I mean you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” He pointed out, words more serious in tone than they had been moments before.  
  
Alma stopped at that moment. The pace in which they had been walking had become more leisurely, but they had now come to a halt in one of the halls.   It was a bit of a quieter area, as they had gotten away from the ruckus of where the other servants were decorating for the oncoming festivities – which was good, given the sudden shift in conversation.  
  
Alma’s eyes flickered to the side, as he thought of how to respond. “You mean because of what happened back in Arcaia?” He asked.  
  
Lavi shook his head. “No, it’s not just because of that,” He said. “This goes farther back. I don’t know how much you get involved with council things, but…”  
  
Lavi trailed off, as he appeared to gather his thoughts. “There’s always been a bit of a strained relationship between the royals and the exorcists. Innocence isn’t exactly predictable, and with something that powerful, it can put a lot of people on edge,” He explained, as he sighed. “Even if it’s intended for good use…”  
  
With a swift movement, Lavi changed his position, and leaned back against the wall as he crossed his arms. He titled his head to the side, as he looked at Alma. “Figured you’d have caught on – you know I think Sheril is one of the least trusting of exorcists on the council.”  
  
Alma exhaled, and kept his focus averted. “Yeah, he’s…been pretty vocal about it…” Alma murmured, knowing all too well how his stepfather felt about things. “Every chance he gets it’s like he has to remind me about how I shouldn’t be spending too much time with Klaud or Suman…”  
  
“Oh, the exorcists here?” Lavi asked. “I bet. Granted, I haven’t interacted with him too much – last night was really the first time I spoke with him at all. _Super_ pleasant.”  
  
There was a sarcastic edge to Lavi’s last comment, and it made the corners of Alma’s mouth upturn.  
  
_“Find me.”_  
  
Like a knife, the voice cut through Alma’s attention, completely derailing his thoughts. It was oddly loud this time, and clear – so clear that Alma turned in the direction he heard it come from, expression somewhat startled and confused.  
  
Seeing Alma’s reaction, Lavi appeared just as bewildered. “Um…?”  
  
“Did you hear that?” Alma asked, almost certain that Lavi would have _had_ to have heard the voice as well, given how clear it was.  
  
Lavi blinked, then looked around. “Uh…hear what?”  
  
_“Find me…”_  
  
“That!” Alma stated, as he nudged his head in the direction that the voice had come from.  
  
However, Alma saw that Lavi’s confusion only deepened. The redhead’s expression scrunched up, as he tried to determine just what it was that the prince had heard.  
  
“I…don’t hear anything?” Lavi expressed, somewhat uncertainly. “It’s just us here.”  
  
Alma’s expression fell. “You really couldn’t hear that?” He asked in disappointment. The voice had been so _audible_ to Alma, though – how could Lave not have heard it? It was somewhat discouraging really, and Alma was wondering if there was something wrong with him. God, what if he was _hearing_ things?  
  
Lavi shook his head. “No…but what did _you_ hear?”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to answer, but froze as he felt the same pull he had been feeling the past few days – prominent, and unyielding. It was like an invisible hand had taken a hold of his wrist, and was trying to guide him along.  
  
Alma turned, and looked down the hall. _‘That way – it’s coming from that way again!’_ He realized.  
  
Then, before Alma could register what was happening, something came over him – and he quickly started down the hall in the direction of the pull.  
  
“Eh-? Hey, wait!” Lavi called, completely thrown off the strange behavior.  
  
Alma didn’t respond, as he had already run down the hall. He saw it was the same direction he had been heading toward the previous evening, but was still quick to try to determine just _where_ the pull was coming from. For whatever reason, the compulsion to do such had increased, and the last thing Alma wanted to do was lose any sense of where he needed to go.  
  
_“Find me.”_  
  
_‘There!’_ Alma realized, as he ended up in the same area as he had before: just outside the door, where any findings the exorcists or finders would undercover were kept.  
  
Lavi caught up, skidding to a stop. He was currently catching his breath. “D-Do you have any idea how _fast_ you booked it down here?” He asked. “What gives? I have long legs and I struggled to keep up!”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, and instead pressed his hear against the door. Inside, he could hear a strange, lulling noise – like a gentle ring, attempt to pull him in.  
  
Alma pushed back. “It’s coming from in here.”  
  
“What is?” Lavi asked, thoroughly lost by this point. “What are you even _hearing_?”  
  
Alma glanced at Lavi, eyes uncertain. If he hadn’t had seemed crazy before, Alma was certain that he must have by now. “It’s that voice,” Alma answered. “The one I’ve been dreaming about. I’ve been hearing it even when I’m awake, but it’s coming from in _here_!”  
  
It sounded insane – Alma knew it did, and for all he knew, he was losing it mentally. But, somehow, Alma couldn’t help but feel there was just something _more_ to what was going on – and he needed to know what.  
  
Alma went to open the door. “I’m going to see what it is-“  
  
Lavi stopped Alma. “Hold on! Are you should that’s a good idea?” He asked, sounding a bit uneasy. “I thought this was where you guys were keeping that innocence that was just found?”  
  
Alma hesitated, knowing that Lavi was correct. He swallowed. “I just want to look, okay? I’m not going to mess with anything,” Alma reasoned. He then looked at Lavi with pleading eyes. “Come on, Lavi – I just need to see. I feel like if I don’t I really _will_ go crazy!”  
  
Willpower wavering, Lavi found himself giving in. He exhaled, as he closed his eyes. “Man, I bet you get away with _a lot_ with that face plus being royalty…” He spoke, before looking back at the door warily. “I’ll go in with you, but we need to be quick. Bookman will _kill_ me if anything weird happens.”  
  
Appreciation appeared in Alma’s eyes, as he offered Lavi a small, thankful smile. He then turned, and opened the door.  
  
Inside, the room was soundless, and the air was still. The chamber that contained any findings was always one that was closed off, and distinctly kept in a more isolated wing of the castle – far away from the day-to-day chaos that went on. There were no windows, and only the one door to enter and exit. The ceiling above had crystalline lights that always seemed to glow though, which illuminated the space.  
  
Alma looked around, trying to determine where the pull was coming from.  
  
Lavi followed, and glanced around the chamber. “What’s it saying?” Lavi asked. “You know – the voice, or whatever it is you’re hearing.”  
  
Alma paused. “Um…not at lot,” He admitted. “Just…it always tells me to find it.”  
  
“Oh, well that’s ominous…” Lavi murmured.  
  
There was an uncertain look that appeared in Alma’s eyes.  He averted his gaze.  “It’s not… _that_  ominous.”  
  
Lavi stared at Alma dubiously.  
  
Alma ignored him, and began to walk around. It was a bit of a strange feeling being in the chamber then; Alma rarely ever entered it. If he did, he was never without supervision. Not that Alma wasn’t _allowed_ to go in there, but he just…had never had as much of a reason to go in there before now. Yes, Alma had always wondered about what it was the exorcists did, but in the past he could have just asked, and they would have given him some kind of insight to satisfy his curiosity.  
  
Somewhere deep down, Alma felt a bit of guilt. He wondered if perhaps he should have said something to Klaud before doing this, but it was like he had just been clamming up with his words the past few says. Uneasy, and wary of saying too much.  
  
_Afraid._ He had been afraid.  
  
Why though?  
  
Alma didn’t have long to let his thoughts wander though. In his peripheral line of sight, he saw something: a sudden flicker of light.  
  
Lavi hadn’t noticed yet. Along the walls were scrolls and documents – all aged, and some even lined with dust. Attention captivated, the bookman-in-training had ended up wandering over to this area, expression one of complete awe. “Holy shit – some of these are _ancient_!” He gushed, entirely enthralled. “Damn, I have to see if these are in any of the languages I know…”  
  
Alma hadn’t even taken note of what Lavi had said, as he ended up going to see what the source of the light was. In the chamber, there were several pedestals – usually where different forms of innocence might be contained if found, and if able to be kept there. It was from one of the pedestals farther off where the light had been coming from.  
  
More specifically, it had been coming from the box on the pedestal.  
  
Alma eyed it. The box was of a small size, and closed, but whatever was in it was _bright_. Even shut, Alma could make out the light as it leaked out from beneath the lid, softly vibrant and ethereal.  
  
From inside, Alma could hear something – almost like a whisper. Indistinguishable, but a whisper nevertheless.  
  
Alma stilled. A part of him – the logical, rational part – was telling him to leave it alone, and to turn back and leave with Lavi before anything happened. But, there was another part of Alma that was _begging_ him to look inside the box: a more instinctual part that was restless, and haunted by something he that couldn’t quite name.  
  
In a split second, the latter part won, and Alma opened it.  
  
He sucked in a breath. In it was a flower, not like any that Alma had ever seen before in real life. But he had seen it before – somewhere, though Alma couldn’t quite remember. It tickled in the back of his mind as he stared as the glass-glazed petals that were so silvery in color, luminous and shining. _‘It’s so pretty…’_  
  
On the opposite side of the chamber, Lavi was still glancing through documents. “Hey, did you know some of these are from Arcaia?” Lavi asked, as he peered at one document in particular. “Not sure if I recognize the language of this one, but the roots look sort of familiar…maybe I can translate it…”  
  
When there was no response, Lavi turned, putting down the scroll. He spotted Alma though, looking transfixed at something that was _glowing_.  
  
It only took Lavi a second to process just what it likely was, and alarm flashed across his face. “Hey – Alma, don’t get too close to that!”  
  
Alma turned, blinking in confusion. “Why? I’m not touching it-“  
  
Lavi had run up to Alma by this point, having taken his shoulder. “Yeah, but um, hello? That’s probably the innocence they just found considering it’s _glowing_ ,” Lavi pointed out. “We don’t know what’ll happen if it gets triggered or anything.”  
  
“Ah,” Alma started, as he once more eyed the flower. “Yeah…yeah, you’re right…”  
  
As Alma said this, his words were distant, and his eyes lingered on the innocence. He knew that Lavi was watching him, likely waiting for him to come along – but there was a sensation in Alma that just _anchored_ him to stillness.  
  
Alma sighed. “It’s just so weird – I _swear_ I’ve seen this before…”  
  
Lavi raised an eyebrow. “The innocence?” He questioned, before frowning pensively. “I mean, it looks sort of like a lotus flower – have you ever seen those? I know they don’t normally grow in this area, but maybe you saw an image of one once.”  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. _‘Lotus flower…’_ He thought, as he tried to recall if he had even heard such a name before. “I guess that could be it,” Alma agreed, as he rested his left hand on the edge of the pedestal. “But this whole thing seems…a bit strange, doesn’t it? Er, maybe I’m thinking about it too much…”  
  
Lavi opened his mouth to speak, but then his eye nearly bulged, as he saw something. “A-Alma, your arm!”  
  
Startled, Alma looked – not initially having _any_ idea as to what Lavi was talking about. But then he saw it: several tendrils from the flower had extended, and were currently wrapping themselves around Alma’s wrists.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, and he immediately tried to yank his arm back – however, the stems refused to untether, as they tightened their coil.  
  
“Lavi, it won’t come off!” Alma panicked, as he tried to pull away more.  
  
Lavi cursed. “Damn it – hang on!” He shouted, as he tried to help pry the stems off. But, as soon as Lavi attempted such they sparked, almost as though some strange power current was overflowing from them uncontrollably.  
  
Lavi grimaced, as some of the sparks burned. “It’s a freakin’ _flower_ – why does it have to be so aggressive!?”  
  
Alma didn’t respond, as he was too busy trying to get his wrist out of the tangled stems, which had by now wrapped around the lower half of his forearms. It stung, with the touch of the innocence scalding Alma’s skin – electrifying, and cutting. Like tiny bits of glass melding into his skin.  
  
_‘Get off,’_ Alma was silently panicking. _‘Get off, get off, get_ off _!’_  
  
_“Why are you fighting it?”_  
  
The voice was piercingly gentle in the midst of the chaos, almost like a blade of freshly fallen snow. Soothing, and calming – Alma found himself freezing almost instantly.  
  
_“What are you so afraid of?”  
  
‘What?’_ Alma thought, though the words refused to leave his lips. The voice – the sensation, _whatever_ it was – had cut through Alma’s thoughts, briefly distracting him.  
  
The innocence sparked, and pain seared throughout Alma’s limb. Teeth clenched, he again tried to pull his arm back, dully aware of Lavi attempting to assist him. At some point, Alma thought Lavi might have said something – but the prince couldn’t hear, and his ears were only filled with the sound of the electrifying current rippling from the innocence.  
  
_“Don’t fight it.”_  
  
How? How could Alma _not_ fight it? The pain was excruciating, and not like anything he had ever felt before – yet here was this _voice_ telling Alma not to fight it.  
  
_“The pain will cease when you stop fighting it.”_  
  
Would it? Alma didn’t know – he still didn’t even know if the voice was something inside his head, and it was a piece of fractured sanity. Except, the voice had been what led him to this point, hadn’t it? The dreams, or visions – whatever they had been, that had been seeping into Alma’s mind, and pushing themselves to the forefront of his consciousness.  
  
Stop it. Somehow Alma needed to stop it.  
  
“Lavi, let go!” Alma shouted over the sparking currents.  
  
“What!?”  
  
“Just let go-!”  
  
Before Alma could attempt to convey anymore, there was a flash of light.  
  
Then darkness.  
  


* * *

  
  
“You think the accommodator is here?” Bookman asked.  
  
Klaud nodded. They were currently in a room, isolated and hidden away from the eyes and ears of anyone else.  
  
“Yes. Suman and I came to the conclusion that it’s likely an accommodator triggering the innocence” She explained, while Lau Shimin remained on her shoulder. “At the very least, it seems to be reacting to something in the castle.”  
  
Bookman rubbed his chin, eyes dark and pensive. As always, the thick, heavy circles weighed down beneath his eyes, though his gaze remained alert. “I see,” He said. “Perhaps it’s good Lavi and I didn’t leave right away after all…”  
  
He paused, as he brought his gaze back up to meet Klaud’s. “If it’s alright, I’d like to see the innocence. I didn’t get a chance to when I arrived last night.”  
  
“Of course. If you follow me, I’ll take you to it,” Klaud said.  
  
The general led Bookman out of the room they had been meeting in, and into the hallway. They had already been in a quieter wing of the castle, away from the majority of the castle staff. While precautions were always taken before employing anyone to work in the castle, Klaud never liked to risk speaking too much about anything regarding innocence out in the open. Avoiding some of the busier areas of the castle was one way to enact such a precaution.  
  
Bookman eyed Klaud as she shut the door, his eyes peering at her as well as Lau. But it wasn’t until they started to walk that he said anything.  
  
“I noticed that Sheril is still acting as the front face for everything,” Bookman commented. “I had anticipated meeting with the queen last night.”  
  
Klaud kept her gaze forward. “Since the queen’s health has not been well, Lord Sheril assists by speaking for her,” She answered, a hint of frost tainting her tone. “He has become quite involved in handling things since they married.”  
  
“You don’t sound particularly pleased by this,” Bookman observed. “It’s been 10 years almost, hasn’t it? If I recall, their marriage didn’t happen long after the king passed away.”  
  
A sliver of ice seemed to coil throughout Klaud, her eyes hardening. “That’s correct. It was only a year after the late king passed away from a hunting accident.”  
  
Bookman’s stoicism remained, his voice oddly conversational. “Is that what they’re still saying it was?” He questioned, before a small scoff escaped him. “I should have expected no less…”  
  
Sharply, Klaud’s eyes shifted over to Bookman. She didn’t argue, nor look as though she intended to; however, her face was painted with a warning look.  
  
Lau Shimin glanced between them, blinking. But the monkey remained quiet.  
  
Bookman was unfazed by this, as he continued on. “Shouldn’t Alma be present for more of these conversations? He’s certainly old enough, and will need to be involved sooner or later.”  
  
Klaud exhaled, somewhat stiffly. “As of now, Queen Tricia has expressed she’d rather not have the prince involved until he needs to be. We are to respect her decision.”  
  
Bookman sucked in a small breath. “Her decision, or Sheril’s?”  
  
Silence remained between the two of them, though Klaud had stopped walking. Lau’s tail swished a little, but he didn’t chatter – instead eying his master, large eyes questioning.  
  
When Klaud spoke, her voice was oddly neutral. “The innocence is this way.”  
  
Any conversation that followed seemed to disintegrate after that, with neither Klaud nor Bookman seeing a need to eradicate the silence. If anything, it was needed.  
  
At least, for Klaud it was.  
  
Bookman’s words were none that Klaud was unfamiliar with. In actuality, they echoed her own thoughts – far more than she would have gone to admit. But, Klaud was not in a situation where she was fit to outright question the decisions made by the royal family. Even if Sheril himself was not technically royalty, he was still married to Queen Tricia.  
  
That alone gave the man more power than Klaud was fond of.  
  
What was it that the queen saw in Sheril? What was it that she saw that allowed her to let him in all those years ago? Klaud supposed it may have been the way Sheril carried himself, and the way he seemed to play with words: like a series of melodies along a harp, lovely and entrancing. Comforting.  
  
Yet every time Sheril spoke, something in his words sent icy shivers coursing throughout Klaud, placing her on guard.  
  
Klaud simply had never trusted Sheril.  
  
Bringing her hand up, Klaud stroked a finger against Lau’s arm. A small act, and one that in times such as these would bring her solace. Tail flicking about, Lau chattered softly.  
  
Klaud’s attention on the small interaction was cut short though, as a sound entered her ears. It was faint, but it sounded like…something _sparking.  
  
_ Senses alert, Bookman also picked up on the noise. “What’s that?”  
  
Klaud frowned, as she quickened her pace. She was just short of a run before she realized the direction the noise was coming from, and her unease deepened.  
  
When she rounded the corner, she then saw the sound was coming from the room the innocence was being kept in. The door was close, but from beneath it she could see some kind of light flash.  
  
Alarm filled Klaud, her eyes widening. The light faded and the sound died down, but by then she was already all but tearing the door open. “Is anyone in here!?” She called, her eyes scanning the area as soon as she could.  
  
Immediately, she saw two figures on the ground: one who Klaud recognized as Bookman’s apprentice, and the other…  
  
“Alma!” Klaud shouted, as she ran over to where he was. The prince currently was on the ground, and from Klaud’s line of sight it was difficult to tell if he were actually conscious or not.  
  
Lavi moved, trying to stand. “What the hell even...” He started to murmur, just as Bookman hurried to him.  
  
Bookman gave Lavi a quick lookover, quickly inspecting for any injuries or damage. “What happened?” He asked.  
  
A bit over, Alma stirred. It brought only a small bit of relief to Klaud though, as the teenager seemed a bit disoriented.  
  
Klaud knelt beside Alma, trying to help him get up. “Alma – Alma, can you hear me?” She asked, attempting to gage what Alma’s current state was.  
  
Alma shifted, as he pushed himself off the ground. His face turned, allowing for Klaud to see that the prince _appeared_ alright for the most part – though he looked a bit disoriented, and as though he had just experienced something tumultuous.  
  
“Y-Yeah….” Alma breathed, before wincing sharply, as he gripped his left wrist.  
  
Klaud frowned. “What’s wrong with your wrist?” She asked, though Alma visibly hesitated. “Alma, let me _see_ -“  
  
Before Alma could say anything, Klaud took the prince’s left wrist. She was careful as not to injure him any further, though her grip was firm. Lifting Alma’s hand, she then brought his wrist close, so she could look at it.  
  
Her eyes instantly noticed something was wrong.  
  
Alma tried to speak. “Klaud-“  
  
Klaud wasn’t listening, and pulled Alma’s sleeved up. Along his left wrist, was something akin to a bracer, such as what Alma would use in archery. This bracer, however, looked as though it were made of silver, and had an almost floral look to the way its design was depicted.  
  
The design was floral, as was the way the edges seemed to meld into Alma’s skin.  
  
Klaud stared. She knew what this was. She recognized it all too clearly.  
  
Bookman, who had taken note of what was going on, looked over. His eyes too immediately focused in on the bracer, and his expression was severe.  
  
Bookman’s attention moved to Klaud.   “It seems you’ve found your accommodator,” He said. “Perhaps now it would be a good time to rethink that decision we discussed earlier.”  
  
To this, Klaud said nothing – and neither did Alma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get this chapter posted, primarily because it’s finally where things are beginning to pick up. Granted, the beginning scene at night is rather slow – but I wanted to use it. (Interestingly enough, that scene was originally written for the prologue, though it would have taken place when Alma was a child.) 
> 
> Moving on – a fair amount of things happen here, and a lot of information is getting thrown around. We get a lot of good interaction with Lavi and Alma (like…why couldn’t they have interacted in canon? *sob*), and hear more from Lavi about things like the tension between royals and exorcists. They’re definitely a fun duo to write together, given that they haven’t even known each other for 24 hours in this AU and have already found trouble (well, Alma was on his way there, and Lavi got dragged along for the ride).
> 
> Klaud is in this chapter more, and her perspective I really enjoy writing. She’s so complex, and has a very interesting relationship with Bookman (who is just fascinating on his own - Bookman is just the enigma I can’t stay away from). Her feelings toward Sheril come out a bit more in this chapter too, and that’s something that will show up again throughout this story for certain.
> 
> Speaking of Sheril - I’d been meaning to make a note about things like royal titles, and how power works in this AU. I’ve sort of interpreted ranks a bit differently than a traditional noble hierarchy (such as what you see in the UK), so Sheril - although married to Tricia - still has the “ranking” of a lord/duke at best. Tricia is still the ultimate authority, which is fine for Sheril. He’s not concerned with being king or having that rank, and it’ll be more crucial how easily malleable Tricia will be in the long run (and I mean, it’s actually a wiser route given what’s in store with this AU). He’s not in this chapter as much, but there is a sense that he’s more the puppeteer in this kingdom. 
> 
> Anyways, just wanted to clarify that in case anyone was confused as to why Klaud referred to Sheril as “Lord” and not “King.” XD
> 
> AND FINALLY - 
> 
> Alma synchronizing was predictable, but hopefully the way it happened was still engaging. I /did/ end up portraying it as an arm bracer (if you google medieval archery bracer you’ll see some examples). I know in canon he has something of a hook/blade that attaches to his right arm (unlike the left, which I’m using for a specific reason), but at the same time we don’t know what it would be refined. The drawing Hoshino did of Past!Alma also looks like it could be a staff or bow, sooooo creative liberties. It’s fanfiction. XD
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you to everyone who’s been reaching out to support this fic - it REALLY does help to hear people are getting something out of it, and I’m already working on chapter 8, so hopefully the next update will be soon!


	6. Disquietment Afterwards

Klaud’s walks were brisk, and her heels clicked against the marble floor loudly. She didn’t care though, as she wasn’t intending to be discreet. Several of the castle servants exchanged nervous glances, and were careful to stay out of the general’s way; Klaud was clearly going somewhere with some kind of purpose, and if the pace of her walk wasn’t a give away, then the intense focus that brimmed in her eyes was.  
  
Entering into the wing that contained the queen’s chambers, Klaud bypassed the guards standing by. Uneasily, they shared glances, but even they dared not say anything to cross the general, and kept their swords sheathed.  
  
Klaud had managed just to get to her location, where she knocked loudly on the doors to the chamber room where the queen would sometimes be. At first no one answered. As a result, Klaud knocked again – this time, with even more urgency than she had knocked to begin with.  
  
The door opened, and Sheril answered. His dark irises locked onto Klaud’s, and his stare was petrifying. There was a hint of annoyance twitching in the corner of his mouth, marring his composure. Clearly, he was aggravated by the disturbance.  
  
Frankly, Klaud didn’t give a damn.  
  
“I need to speak to her majesty,” Klaud expressed. There was an unwavering firmness to words, as well as a coolness.  
  
Sheril arched an eyebrow. “You’ll have to express your concerns to me. The queen needs to ensure she has enough energy for when she meets with Bookman.”  
  
Klaud didn’t budge, and her resolve only seemed to strengthen with the man’s unwillingness to fetch Tricia. “This is concerning the queen specifically,” Klaud reiterated, her tone hardening. “I need to speak with _her_.”  
  
Sheril’s gaze seemed to darken at this, not taking well to the way in which Klaud was speaking to him. “You may want to keep that tone of yours in check, _General_ -“  
  
“Sheril?” Tricia asked, as she came to the door. Gently, she placed a hand on his arm, and the man stilled a bit, eyes moving to her. Tricia looked up at him, eyes reassuring. “Sheril, it’s alright.”  
  
Hesitation flashed in Sheril’s eyes, as his unwillingness to step back was just apparent enough to catch. The man quickly composed himself, and stepped aside, allowing for Tricia to more directly face Klaud.  
  
Once Klaud saw that she would be able to speak with the queen, she made a move to speak. However, he paused upon seeing that Sheril was not leaving. Aggravation and disdain grazing her core, Klaud realized that he likely _wasn’t_ leaving anytime soon.  
  
It was frustrating, but it couldn’t be helped.  
  
Klaud took a small breath before facing Queen Tricia. “We’ve determined an accommodator for the innocence that was found.”  
  
Surprise flashed across Tricia’s face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sheril was the first to say anything.  
  
“You seem to be distressed by this,” Sheril noted shrewdly. “Is there a reason for that?”  
  
Tricia, who had noticed the tension Klaud held as well, also seemed curious as to what might have been causing the general any distress. Her eyes were questioning, as she looked at Klaud for any explanation.  
  
When Klaud didn’t immediately answer, Tricia pressed on. “Klaud,” She began, her words far softer in comparison to Sheril’s, “Who is it?”  
  
Klaud’s gaze shifted between Tricia and Sheril, as she continued to hesitate. The general knew that she couldn’t stall for long though, as both royals were staring at her expectantly.  
  
Finally, Klaud turned to Tricia as she answered. “It’s Alma.”  
  
Tricia froze. She stared at Klaud, blue eyes shocked to stillness; they were already pale to begin with, yet as Tricia stared her eyes seemed to haze. Something unyielding seemed to clutch onto the queen’s heart, as Klaud’s response sank in.  
  
_Alma._  
  
Tricia took a small breath, swiftly attempting to keep herself collected. “It can’t be him-“ She started to say. Tricia’s thoughts seemed to jumble together though, as they fractured before they could be put to words. _‘Not him.’_  
  
For a moment, the harshness in Klaud’s exterior cracked, as she watched the queen’s reaction carefully. Guilt pinched at her nerves; Klaud knew that the life of an exorcist was not an easy one, and was often strained by a plethora of factors. Klaud was no mother, and therefore could not have entirely understood Tricia’s feelings – but Klaud could understand that it wouldn’t be easy for a mother to learn of her child having to succumb to such a life. Even if they were royalty.  
  
“How are you so sure it’s even him?” Sheril asked pointedly. “Was it merely something being triggered? Unless he somehow synchronized-“  
  
Klaud turned to Sheril, expression once more hardening. “He _did_ synchronize. The innocence turned out to be parasitic, so it’s now a part of his left forearm.”  
  
This seemed to snap Tricia back to reality, and worry colored her features. “Is he alright?” She asked, as her composure began to crumble. “He wasn’t hurt, was he?”  
  
Shaking her heard, Klaud attempted to ease the queen’s concerns. “He seems to be fine, if not a bit dazed from the synchronization,” She answered. “The prince is in the infirmary now being looked at-“  
  
“I need to see him,” Tricia said, hurrying passed Klaud before anyone could stop her.  
  
Klaud stared, somewhat startled by the queen’s sudden briskness. The general gave one final glance in Sheril’s direction though, then turned to run after Tricia.  
  
Sheril watched, as both the queen and the general left in the direction of the infirmary. Once they were out of sight, Sheril’s eyes briefly moved over to the corner of the room, where a familiar black cat was crouched in. _Lulu Bell._  
  
Lulu Bell blinked, her bright yellow eyes looking at Sheril warily.  
  
Sheril turned, again looking in the direction that Tricia and Klaud had gone. “Don’t worry,” He reassured calmly. “This changes nothing.”  
  
The cat made no response.  
  


* * *

  
  
The infirmary was not an extravagant part of the castle. It was designed practically, with an elongated structure in order to have enough room for all the beds that filled it. They were simple, and for the most part unoccupied; a bit farther back there were a few additional beds with curtains closing them off. These were primarily to give privacy in the case of having patients with more severe ailments, or who needed to be more isolated to assist with recover.  
  
And of course, with Alma’s luck, he had gotten the pleasure of being placed into one of these enclosed areas.  
  
“Why do I have to be all the way back _here_?” Alma asked, as he sat upright on the bed. “It’s not like I have anything contagious- _ow_!”  
  
“Hold _still_ ,” The head nurse, Mathilde, snapped. She was a tall, thin woman with her hair tightly pulled back into a knot. Her expression was pinched, as she continued to inspect Alma, moving his limbs as she needed.  
  
Mathilde stopped when she came to his left arm, as she took note of the innocence along his wrist. She shook her head, sighing in frustration. “You’re lucky this wasn’t the death of you.”  
  
Alma averted his gaze a bit, expression a bit penitent.  
  
The head nurse finished up, and somewhat forcefully pushed Alma back so that he was lying down. “You need to rest. Lie here for a bit.”  
  
Alma tried to sit back up. “But I’m not tired,” He tried to reason, before Mathilde pushed him back down.  
  
“Don’t argue back with me on this,” Mathilde lectured. “Your body experienced strain, and it needs to recover – so _rest_.”  
  
Mathilde left after that, shutting the curtains so Alma’s space was closed off. Alma released a breath, and closed his eyes. However, he was far too awake to even come close to dozing off, so he opened them. Since he was lying on his back, Alma found himself staring at the ceiling – something that would quickly become boring, and only add to his restlessness.  
  
Moving a bit, Alma shifted. He then held up his left arm, so he could see his forearm above him.  
  
The innocence had attached itself to the lower part of Alma’s forearm, along the wrist. He had not gotten a chance to thoroughly look at it, as Klaud had immediately ushered Alma to the infirmary once she found out what had happened. Mathilde had taken over from there, fretting over Alma like an agitated hen, and she poked and prodded him until she were satisfied that the prince wasn’t knocking on death’s door.  
  
But now, Alma could look. He could look at it closely.  
  
Initially, Alma had seen what looked like silvery veins tracing into the edge of his skin; however, the appearance had somehow refined itself in the past half hour. The innocence did look more like an archery bracer – though it was far different from the plain, leather one Alma always used. This one also had no laces, as it was completely enclosed around the lower forearm. As Alma looked closely, it looked like plant tendrils depicted on the edges of the bracer as though it were a secorative border, and along the interior part of his forearm, there was an actual flower faintly depicted. Somewhat like a lotus.  
  
It looked…oddly pretty, really. Not at all what Alma would have expected for something intended to be used as a weapon.  
  
“Psssst.”  
  
Alma blinked, and glanced over.  
  
“Pssst. Open your curtain!”  
  
Propping himself up onto his elbows, Alma did just that, pushing the curtain off to the side. When he did, he could see Lavi on the other bed, who had also pushed aside his curtain.  
  
Lavi looked around, before whispering. “Is that head nurse gone?”  
  
Alma paused. “Um…I think?”  
  
Lavi breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god. She’s _terrifying_ ,” Lavi said. “It’s like she’s from the army or something…”  
  
Alma couldn’t entirely disagree. Mathilde was ruthless in how she ran the infirmary, and didn’t let anyone or anything sway her ever.  
  
“Yeah. She can be a bit…intense. But she means well and she’s definitely thorough,” Alma expressed, before looking at Lavi apologetically. “I’m sorry about earlier…are you okay?”  
  
Lavi appeared a bit surprised by this, but answered with ease. “Bit turned around, but I can’t complain. Think the head nurse did more damage when she was giving me a check over,” Lavi spoke. He said these words lightly, but a small frown appeared on his face. “What about you though? Are _you_ okay?”  
  
Alma sat up more, taking a second to actually think. How _did_ he feel? Did he feel okay? “Uh…yeah, I think so,” Alma responded, though his words seemed to lack the confidence he would have liked to convey. “I mean, I _think_ I think so? I don’t feel different or anything…”  
  
“Yeah, well it was pretty wild what happened back there,” Lavi spoke. He brought his knee upward, so he could rest his arm on it languidly. “So it attached to your arm, huh?”  
  
Holding up his left arm, Alma moved it around a bit as he eyed it curiously. “Yeah, it looks like an archery bracer,” He commented before swinging his arm a bit. “What’s it supposed to do though? Doesn’t it activate somehow? It feels sort of heavy...”  
  
A hint of nervousness flickered in Lavi’s eye. “Uh, I wouldn’t try to activate it anytime _soon_ – especially after what just happened….”  
  
Realizing that it actually _was_ a reckless thing to be trying, Alma stopped immediately, as a sheepish look appeared on his face. “Ah, sorry! I guess I was just wondering what it would be like activated…”  
  
“I’m sure you’ll find out. Now that you’re an accommodator, you’ll have to get trained,” Lavi pointed out. “Gotta say, it’ll probably cause a stir. I don’t think there’s ever been a royal who also was an exorcist.”  
  
As Lavi spoke, Alma took the words in. Admittedly, he hadn’t considered the _weight_ of what it would mean to have synchronized with innocence. Really, it hadn’t even had crossed his mind as a possibility that he would _ever_ be an accommodator – and just what would Alma have to do now? He still had a lot that he would have to take on for being next in line to the throne, which alone would be daunting. But now…  
  
“Yeah…it’ll be… something…” Alma murmured, not really sure how he felt at the moment.  
  
Alma looked back at Lavi, as a new question arose into his mind. “Hey, so what’s your innocence? You never said.”  
  
Lavi grinned. “A hammer.”  
  
Alma looked a bit perplexed. “A hammer…?’  
  
“Your majesty, he’s fine-!”  
  
Alma hardly had a chance to process what was happening, and the next thing he knew the curtains were being thrown back with an unprecedented force. Suddenly, he was face to face with Tricia, and Alma could immediately see that her eyes were rimmed with worry and fatigue.  
  
Alma stammered with his words, not sure how he had actually blanked on having to explain this all to his _mother_ of all people. “Mother, I-“  
  
He was cut off, as Tricia pulled him close, wrapping her around Alma tightly. “Thank goodness you’re alright,” She breathed, voice tremoring faintly. Tricia pulled back, as she ran her fingers through Alma’s bangs, pushing them aside so she could look at his face. “It didn’t hurt you? Mathilde said you just need rest, but…”  
  
Tricia’s voice faltered, and for a moment Alma thought it sounded as though it may crack. And honestly, his mother looked as though _she_ were about to crack.  
  
A heavy wave of guilt washed over Alma; he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his mother fuss over him this much, let alone be this upset over anything involving him. In the past few years, their relationship had become more distant, as she always seemed to be with Sheril – so, Alma didn’t exactly spend as much time with Tricia as he had when he was younger. But now here he was, feeling once more like some eight-year-old boy who had just experienced some sort of injury, with a mother who was beside herself with worry.  
  
“No, I’m fine! Really,” Alma tried to reassure her, not wanting Tricia to break on _his_ account. He managed a smile. “I promise I’m okay. So you don’t have to worry about me.”  
  
The way in which Alma attempted to provide comfort was endearing, and a tiny smile graced Tricia’s lips.   It only last a few seconds though, because her eyes soon landed on Alma’s left arm where the innocence could be seen.  
  
Disheartenment flashed in Tricia’s eyes. She could see where the innocence had actually attached itself to Alma’s skin, with no signs of being able to actually come off. The weight of its permanency seemed to crush down onto her, and she almost felt dizzy from the onslaught of emotions it caused.  
  
Mathilde, who had just been a few feet away seemed to take notice of Tricia’s lack of vitality. She approached the queen, gently taking her arm. “Please, Queen Tricia, you should go back to your room for a bit – or else I’ll have to lie you down here,” The head nurse advised. “Your son will be alright; he just needs to rest a bit.”  
  
Tricia didn’t move at first, as she was not exactly willing to leave Alma be. But, the queen knew she could trust Mathilde, and if anything that her only child would be in good hands. _‘It’s fine. He’s fine,’_ Tricia attempted to reason with herself. _‘Nothing happened…’_  
  
Yet. Nothing had happened _yet_ , though Tricia was loath to think suck things.  
  
Giving in, Tricia nodded. She took one final moment to look at Alma, as she caressed the side of his face with her hand. Smiling softly, Tricia pulled away as she let the nurse escort her out.  
  
Once the queen was gone, Alma felt his exterior fade, shoulders slumping a bit.  
  
Lavi, who had witnessed the exchange, watched where the queen and head nurse had walked off. “Wow. She looked like she was about to have a heart attack…”  
  
Alma inwardly sighed. “Yeah, she seemed…pretty upset…”  
  
Lavi leaned forward onto his kneecap. “Well, I guess you can’t really blame her…especially being she’s your mom and all – OUCH!”  
  
Out of nowhere, a hand smacked Lavi over the head. Cringing, Lavi turned swiftly to where he was facing Bookman, who had seemingly come out of _nowhere._  
  
“W-When did you get here!?” Lavi sputtered, as he rubbed the spot that Bookman had just swatted.  
  
“Stop blabbering already,” The old man scolded. “I’ve _been_ here – I just came down because the head nurse wanted me to make sure you two were actually resting. Which you clearly aren’t. Mind you it’ll be the last time you ever rest peacefully once you’re out of this infirmary, _apprentice_.”  
  
There was a somewhat threatening tone in the way Bookman spoke, and Alma caught a glimpse of what could only be described as _terror_ in Lavi’s eyes.  
  
Bookman then turned his head, as he looked at Alma. “You’ll have quite a bit to deal with once you leave this infirmary yourself. It’d be in your best interest to take advantage of this time while you have it.”  
  
The tone wasn’t as ominous as when Bookman had addressed Lavi, but it did make Alma…a _little_ wary. He wasn’t exactly certain as to how he was supposed to take Bookman’s words, but the indication the implications being made weren’t particularly optimistic.  
  
Somewhat nervously, Alma tried to brush off the severity of Bookman’s warning. “Ah, I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Alma suggested, a small, yet positive smile on his face.  
  
There was a pause, as Bookman stared at Alma. “You’re more naïve than I thought,” He deadpanned, causing Alma’s optimistic smile to fall. “No matter. You’ll learn in time.”  
  
Bookman looked between both teenagers. “At the very least, both of you should pretend to sleep,” He suggested. “Less you want to deal with the head nurse, and she’ll be far worse to deal with than me.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Outside, the sky was blue. It was bright, and speckled with several sparse, white clouds – a clear day, overall. The clouds migrated along the sky at a steady, swift pace and the leaves of the trees could be seen swaying, as they were guided by a breeze that promised early autumn.  
  
Tricia was not outside, but she was watching. She was watching from her window: a place she often remained at, whether while reading or doing some kind of needlework. The queen tended to stay there since it was a place she could remain while admiring the beauty of outside, all while saving her health. However, even before she had needed to be conscientious of such things, Tricia had liked that spot.  
  
When he was alive, King Victor had always teased her about it. Even to this day, Tricia could still hear his sweet voice, light and humorous, as it haunted her ears.  
  
_Laughter. “You should come outside! I fear you’ll turn into a statue if you don’t.”  
  
Tricia looked over, and smiled kindly. “Oh?” She asked, as she held back a bell of a soft giggle. “I think it would take more than _ sitting _to make that happen. You act as if I never move at all.”  
  
“You _ hardly _do,” Victor scolded, though there was a grin on his face and the teasing tone was evident. He then approached Tricia, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling his face into the side of hers sweetly. “Come outside with me! It’s so beautiful . Not as beautiful as you, of course, but still lovely!”  
  
A blush painted Tricia’s face, and her heart jumped a little. It was strange how even after they had wed, Victor could still make her feel the same way he had when they first began a courtship: adored, and special. Cherished.  
  
Victor still held her, his touch tender against her body. “I just want to enjoy every second I can with you,” He finally added, words a bit softer. “I love you, Tricia.”  
  
_ Love.  
  
Those memories were once filled with such love, and such warmth. But now, they stung. They stung, and pricked, and burned like tortured blisters – unpleasant, and horrid. Tricia honestly couldn’t help but feel a tinge of bitterness for how such a change had taken place; she hadn’t wanted those memories soiled by the reality of what had happened, and the loss that had taken place a decade ago. Part of it was because she was frail not only in health, but in spirit.  
  
Tricia just wasn’t strong like she wanted to be. She never had been.  
  
Silently, Tricia traced her finger along the edge of the windowpane, as she continued to look at the sky. She could remember what the sky had looked like when she realized she was with child, too, although the sky had been a mixture of white and silver then. Like so many moments in her life, Tricia had been at that window, doing needlework and watching in awe as snow fell from the sky. It had been a strange thing given that it had been the very beginning of April; spring have been stubbornly refusing to spring through, and winter had lingered unexpectedly.  
  
It had been so beautiful that Tricia had prickled her finger, and spilled some blood onto the snow that had collected on the window sill.  
  
Tricia was never sure why she always remembered that, but the memory had remained, never once leaving her.  
  
“You’ve been here a while now.”  
  
Tricia turned, and looked back to see Sheril. She was not sure how long he had been there, or when he had even come into the room; Sheril always had such soundless footsteps.  
  
Returning her gaze to the window, Tricia’s eyes remained distant. “I needed to clear my head a bit,” She rationalized.  
  
“Understandably so. I imagine it came as quite the shock to you.”  
  
Something in Tricia stirred, and her breath threatened to shudder. She closed her eyes, and tried to regulate herself. _‘Breathe. Just breathe.’  
  
_ Gingerly, a cold hand grasped at her shoulder, and Tricia was turned. Her breath momentarily stilled as her eyes met Sheril’s, which were so dark and endless – an eternal night, never to see the light of day.  
  
In Sheril’s eyes, something small glimmered. It was not quite pity, but something else; Tricia wasn’t sure what.  
  
“You’re so distressed over this,” Sheril acknowledged softly.  
  
Tricia’s eyes shifted downcast. She exhaled shakily, the tremor in her ribcage far too prominent for her liking. “I never thought…” She started to say, but trailed off, the words burning in her esophagus. _‘I never thought my child would be an accommodator.’_  
  
For whatever reason, Tricia felt foolish for not being able to articulate such a simple phrase. Yet, she realized it wasn’t simple: it was complicated, and loaded with all sorts of thoughts and feelings she had not the slightest idea how to process. It didn’t held that this truly was something Tricia had never anticipated. It wasn’t as though a royal _couldn’t_ be an exorcist, but the thought of one becoming such – let alone her son – was….just not something she had considered. Not ever.  
  
Now, it was staring her in the face glaringly.  
  
Still looking downward, Tricia shut her eyes. She tried to speak. “I…don’t want him to get _hurt_ -“  
  
Her voice fractured, weak and fragile like brittle glass.   Tears did not flow freely from her eyes, but they threatened to while prickling at the corners.  
  
Cool, long fingers brushed against the side of Tricia’s face, and she looked up once more to find Sheril’s eyes boring into hers endlessly.  
  
“You’re upsetting yourself,” Sheril murmured quietly, before he took her hand and pulled her close, pressing his lips into her hair – a kiss that was more fragile than porcelain. “You’ve always been so trusting of the other exorcists before. Do you think they would fail you in protecting your own son?”  
  
The words somewhat took Tricia by surprise, though after a moment she shook her head. “No…no, they wouldn’t,” She said, as she took in a small breath. “I’ve know Klaud for so long, and Suman is a good man…”  
  
Hand in Sheril’s, Tricia intertwined her fingers into his, yearning for comfort. “I know you’ve always been wary of them, but…”  
  
As she trailed off, Sheril wrapped his other hand around the back of Tricia’s head, and pulled her in. “Only because I was us to be safe. I value my family.”  
  
A tiny, broken smile etched itself onto Tricia’s face. “I know you do.”  
  
Sheril stroked her hair, fingers dancing against the tendrils like a spider crawling along a wall.   “Your trust has always been what I’ve found so admirable about you. I don’t think now is the time for you to lose that,” Sheril reassured fluidly. “I’m sure Alma will be fine.”  
  
Tricia nodded, as she allowed for Tricia to hold. “Yes…yes, you’re right.”  
  
_‘I need you to be right…’_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was the last to be let out of the infirmary.  Lavi had been able to leave a bit earlier, likely because he hadn’t been the one to unexpectedly get innocence attached to his arm.  Mathilde had been absolutely  _insistent_  that Alma stay longer, and Alma was probably fortunate that she wasn’t pushing him to stay overnight.  
  
Obviously, the head nurse meant well.  But she could certainly be a bit…overbearing, to say in the least.  
  
For this reason, Alma left as soon as he was able to.  He was normally the kind of person who didn’t mind chattering, but in this case, he found having his freedom preferable.     
  
Briskly, the prince left the infirmary area, and exited into the hall.  
  
Alma stopped though, as he could see Suman waiting outside the door.  He was slightly off to the side, leaning back against the wall; a somewhat bored look was on the exorcist’s face, which made Alma wonder if he had been there for a while.  
  
Alma looked at Suman curiously.  “Have you just been waiting out here?” Alma asked, as amusement tickled his lips.  “You know you _could_ have come inside.”  
  
Suman looked at Alma, not quite returning the lighthearted humor.  His attention moved over to the door, eyes untrusting.  “I’d rather pass on going back in there anytime soon…” He grumbled.  
  
Alma blinked, though it only took him a second to register what Suman was implying.  “Oh, did you have to deal with the head nurse not too long ago?” He asked amiably. “She can be a little extreme, but she really does care.”  
  
Suman didn’t appear all that swayed with Alma’s reasoning, and instead eyed Alma.  “Klaud told me about the mess you got into earlier,” He said, tone becoming more serious. “Have to say I wasn’t expecting that…”  
  
Alma shifted, feeling a little awkward. It was surreal to think that he had somehow been compatible with the innocence – even more so given that Alma had hardly ever been around it. Klaud and Suman were often limited in what they could discuss, and even though Alma was a royal and eventually would know more, he had been somewhat barred from getting too involved. Alma never had understood it to be quite honest, and he had never been too certain as to whether it was more of his mother’s decision, or Sheril’s.  
  
When Alma didn’t respond verbally, a sigh of exasperation escaped Suman. He pushed himself off the wall, and face Alma directly. “What were you _thinking_?” Suman asked, frustration finally beginning to leak out. “You know just as well as anyone how unstable innocence can be – and you went with someone you barely _knew_.”  
  
Alma nearly cringed. He couldn’t say he was undeserving of the lecture; he _had_ known better than to go into that chamber. But Lavi had been from the Bookman Clan, so Alma had figured he had _at least_ been trustworthy. “Lavi is Bookman’s apprentice, though. I thought-“  
  
“That you could trust him?” Suman asked. He closed his eyes as he massaged his forehead, looking as though he were doing his best not to completely snap on Alma. “Yes, he’s with Bookman, but that’s not an excuse. What if something had happened? You could have been seriously hurt back there.”

  
The words were harsh against Alma’s ears, and he broke his eye contact with Suman. Alma knew that Suman wasn’t saying these things for no reason, but even that knowledge did little to ease Alma’s reaction. He realized that Suman was right, and looking back, Alma could see how painfully _reckless_ his actions were. It had only been by chance he synchronized with the innocence, but if he hadn’t, then it was more than plausible that he might not be standing in that spot alive.  
  
Alma kept his gaze averted, as guilt gripped him. “I’m sorry…”  
  
Suman was quiet for a moment, as he looked at Alma. He could see how genuine Alma was in his apology, and by the pitifully contrite look he wore, Suman knew that his words had hit hard.  
  
“Look, I didn’t come here to lecture you,” Suman started to say, leveling his tone a bit. He didn’t think he could take the horrendously _sad_ puppy eye look Alma had a tendency to pull, and it wasn’t as though Suman had intended to make the prince feel badly about what happened. “Even if you did scare the hell out of everyone…”  
  
Alma chanced to raise his line of sight, and looked ruefully at Suman. “I mean…it wasn’t a _complete_ waste, right?” He said, as he held up his arm while attempting a rather sheepish smile. “Now you don’t have to look for the accommodator.”  
  
It was hard for Suman to completely enjoy the humor, given the weight of the situation. However, he _could_ appreciate the fact that somehow in the midst of this Alma was somehow managing to be optimistic. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about. You can’t just walk around with an anti-akuma weapon and not know how to use it,” He pointed out. “Klaud will want to start training you as soon as possible – probably as early as tomorrow, given we don’t want to take any chances with it getting activated by accident.”  
  
Total surprised crossed Alma’s features. Of course he knew he would have probably needed to be schooled in how to handle the innocence, but hearing about actually being trained so fast was….actually _exciting_. Earlier, the notion of having so much to deal with had been more or less daunting; but now that Alma was hearing that Klaud would train him, he felt an odd rush of enthusiasm.  
  
“Really?” Alma asked, as he was unable to contain the grin that started to spread across his face. “So I can train with you and Klaud now? Does this mean I get to watch you guys use your innocence more?”  
  
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself – there’s a lot that goes into getting trained,” Suman noted. He then added, with a shadow of a smile, “Glad to see you’re at least excited though, considering how others might feel.”  
  
Alma’s eagerness diminished a hair, if only because Suman’s words were a reminder of the responsibilities that came with being an accommodator. But surely Alma would manage, wouldn’t he? He already lived in the castle, so he wouldn’t have to move, and when he thought about it, he could only help more now that he was an exorcist.  
  
So, perhaps it wouldn’t be as wretched a fate as some made it out to be.  
  
“I’ll get to work with you and Klaud more though, so that’ll be fun at least!” Alma suggested, eyes still bright with optimism. “And now I can help more with things. I feel like I never get to be involved with anything important.”  
  
“Well, this is pretty important. So you’ll be set,” Suman said. “Take it easy tonight. More than enough has already happened for one day.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The next morning, Klaud was up early. This was nothing unusual; she was always awake well before the sun rose, when the world was at its darkest and the promise of dawn was still a dream. Everything was always so quiet at that time – both eerie, and peaceful.  
  
Sometimes, Klaud craved that time desperately. It allowed for her to gather her thoughts, and to reflect on whatever tumultuous notions may have been creeping through her mind – as they often did. So many things haunted Klaud.  
  
Klaud looked at the sky. She had stepped outside, and could just barely see in the east where the sky was beginning to lighten a little, as the horizon was kissed with a faint, distant glow of gold. Lau Shimin was nearby, scampering around as he climbed into some tree branches, already energetic and itching to move.  
  
Klaud didn’t mind; her thoughts were still lingering on the events of the day before, what the interaction she had had with the queen.  
  
_“You’ll keep him safe, right?” Tricia asked. She clearly was attempting to keep her voice level, though the tremor in her voice spilled through.  
  
Klaud nodded. “Suman and I will do all we can. He’ll be trained well,” Klaud reassured. “It’s only down to Suman and I as it is in Engelus, and with Alma being a royal the council won’t ask of him to go anywhere else anytime soon.”  
  
Tricia nodded. “Yes, of course,” She agreed, though she sounded worn.  
  
Concern appeared in Klaud’s eyes, her calm and collected composure softening. Inside, her heart ached for Tricia; it always had. Klaud knew what kind of person Tricia was, and she knew that the queen was not someone who did particularly well with such severe circumstances.  
  
Ever since they were children, Klaud had seen this.  
  
“He’ll be safe, Tricia,” Klaud reiterated, as she discarded all formalities. “Suman and I will keep him safe. You know we will.”  
  
The earnestness of the words seemed to catch Tricia’s attention, and her pale blue eyes met Klaud’s bold amethyst ones, which held the confidence the queen so deeply desired. Faintly, Tricia smiled. “Thank you, Klaud,” She spoke. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
  
_ That was the interaction that had taken place when the queen had returned from the infirmary. She had been such a mess when Klaud had found her again: nearly to tears, and looking as though she may faint at any given second. But after a few long moments of offering soft reassurances and gentle support, Tricia had been fine – fine enough to hold a small conversation at least.  
  
Klaud rand a hand through her dark blonde hair, her bangs still obscuring part of her scarred face. She had her work cut out for her.  
  
Noticing the sky was even lighter now, Klaud started to walk back inside to the castle. Lau, who saw this, quickly caught up, and hopped onto Klaud’s shoulder quietly.  
  
Although it was still quite early, Klaud started off to the training room. She had anticipated doing some training for herself at first to clear her head even more, but slowed her pace as she could hear someone else in the area. The training room was large, but due to the castle’s lack of activity Klaud could hear the faint footsteps, and knew another person was present.  
  
When she entered, Klaud was able to see Alma getting his archery equipment.  
  
“You’re awake earlier than normal,” Klaud commented.  
  
By the somewhat startled way Alma looked up, Klaud knew that the prince had not heard her enter the training room – clearly a sign that he probably had a fair amount on his mind as well.  
  
“Ah, yeah. I couldn’t sleep much, and kept waking up,” Alma admitted. “I thought I’d practice a little and make use of the spare time.”  
  
Klaud couldn’t say she was surprised by this. Given what had happened the day before, it was only expected Alma would be restless and even agitated. The addition of innocence and the way it had latched onto his arm would take a lot of adjusting to.  
  
Klaud briefly looked at the bow Alma had taken, before directly looking him in the eye. “Put that bow back,” She instructed. “You won’t be doing as much archery today.”  
  
Surprise colored Alma’s features. “What? Why?” Alma asked, completely confused. “You always say practicing early is good!”  
  
“It is, but if you’re awake now, we might as well make use of the time like you said,” Klaud pointed out.   “You need to learn how to use that innocence on your arm. In this case, sooner is better.”  
  
The disappointment that had been beginning to show on Alma’s face immediately evaporated, as his eyes brimmed with excitable understanding. “You mean I get to actually get to start training as an exorcist today? Like with you and Suman?”  
  
The enthusiasm was rather childlike, and Klaud responded with a small smile. Her eyes, however, remained astute and sharp. “Yes, but we still have to start slow,” She noted. “Which means you’ll want to put that equipment up for now. Since no one is awake yet and this room is empty, this will be an ideal time to start.”  
  
Alma nodded, before doing as Klaud instructed. It was probably the one time he had ever willing put up his bow – an observation that Klaud found somewhat amusing.  
  
When Alma returned, he looked at Klaud with eager eyes. “So, what do we do first?”  
  
Klaud crossed her arms, as she looked at the silvery bracer on Alma’s left forearm. “Let’s start with seeing what your innocence does. Try activating it.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma felt himself freeze up. How was he supposed to activate his innocence? He still wasn’t sure how he had synchronized in the first place, and Alma felt more than a little clueless. He glanced at the silver bracer. “Um…”  
  
Klaud raised an eyebrow, looking at Alma.  
  
Alma blinked, and looked somewhat self-conscious. “Uh…I don’t really know how…”  
  
The explanation didn’t appear to throw Klaud off, as she nodded in understanding. “No one does, at first. Each piece of innocence takes a different form, and has a slightly different way of functioning with its accommodator,” Klaud reasoned. “Much of it is intuitive.”  
  
While the explanation helped, Alma still hesitated, looking at his arm.  
  
“Take a few moments to clear your head. Don’t actually think about activating it yet,” Klaud instructed. “Close your eyes, and focus on your breathing only.”  
  
Alma exhaled, and closed his eyes as Klaud advised. He tried _not_ to think about anything – though, it was frankly not a strong point of Alma’s. His mind was one that was so continuously active that having a moment of peace in his head was close to _impossible_.  
  
_‘Come on,’_ Alma tried to urge. _‘Focus. Stop thinking, and just focus.’  
  
_ Unfortunately, focusing was the last thing that Alma seemed to be capable of doing. Every other second he found some thought clogging his head: the innocence on his arm, if his mother was okay, what his stepfather must have thought about this all…every thought broke the internal silence Alma was so desperately trying to maintain, shattering any focus he might have come close to obtaining.  
  
Finally, Alma sighed in defeat. He just couldn’t focus the way Klaud was probably hoping he would.  
  
“Sorry,” Alma apologized. “It’s like my mind is just all over the place…”  
  
Klaud’s lips pressed together, her expression a bit more serious. “There will always be something to distract you. Whether the distraction is worth your attention is what you need to remember,” She said. “When acting as an exorcist, you’ll have a large amount of them to filter out.”  
  
Alma nodded. He knew Klaud was right, but he still felt a bit nervous. What if he couldn’t “clear his head” enough to actually activate the innocence?  
  
“Let’s try again,” Klaud continued. “This time, trying keeping your attention only on your breathing. Even notice the way your ribcage moves – those sensory details will ground you.”  
  
Again, Alma tried to do as Klaud instructed. He closed his eyes, once more working to focus on his breathing; but, even as he paid attention to the small details Klaud suggested, Alma still felt himself somehow struggling. It didn’t help that Alma also just couldn’t _feel_ anything different. There was no strange voice, no signs of the innocence even existing save for its weight, and just… _nothing_.  
  
Eventually, Alma found himself becoming both impatient as well as frustrated with himself. He opened his eyes, and looked at Klaud. “Klaud, _nothing_ is happening,” Alma expressed. “Am I supposed to feel something specific? You don’t think there’s something wrong, do you?”  
  
Klaud shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong,” She reassured calmly. “It’s not unusual if you can’t activate the innocence right away. It’s its own entity, and it takes time to learn how to work with it – even after synchronizing.”  
  
Even with this in mind, Alma couldn’t ignore the small wave of dejection he felt. He supposed it wasn’t realistic to have anticipated his first session with the innocence to go smoothly, but he had hoped that he would have at least _learned_ what his anti-akuma weapon would be.  
  
Klaud spied Alma’s downtrodden mood. “Don’t let it distress you. Even if you don’t activate it for a while longer, you’re still beginning the process to do so. Worrying will only make it more tedious,” She said. “We’ll continue with some meditation techniques for the time being.”  
  
For the rest of the training session, they did just that: meditation, and mindfulness exercises.  It wasn’t something that Alma could say he had been all that thrilled to do; he had never done well with such things, and remaining still at times was painstakingly troublesome.  By the end of it, Alma was just about ready to lose his mind with how much he was itching to move around and do something; he had no idea how Klaud was even managing.    
  
Leaving, Alma felt a small bit of relief.  From a rational standpoint he knew the training session hadn’t gone  _poorly_  – it just hadn’t been what he had expected.  
  
_‘I guess it wasn’t so bad,’_  Alma thought as he again looked at his innocence.   _‘Just what are you supposed to_ do _though?’_  
  
There was no answer – which Alma should have anticipated.    
  
Or…perhaps not. When Alma thought back to the past few days, and the strange dreams he had been having, he realized that they had started _after_ the innocence was found and brought to the castle.  Then, while synchronizing, Alma had heard the same voice that he had been hearing all throughout that time.  
  
Well, if the innocence had communicated with him then, why wasn’t it communicating with him  _now_?  
  
Alma ran a hand through his hair.  He had no answer, and based off what Klaud had said Alma wasn’t sure if there was an exact answer that existed.  Innocence was complicated as it was; Alma had not been ignorant to this, but actually _being_ an accommodator make it blindingly apparent.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Alma turned, and saw Lavi approach him.  The redhead’s one visible eye was bright and alert, as a friendly grin stretched across his face.  
  
Lavi caught up to Alma.  “Glad to see you’re up.  Wasn’t sure how you’d be feeling after yesterday.”  
  
Alma smiled.  “I feel okay.  Not that different really.”  
  
As Alma said this, Alma wondered if Lavi would have anything to say about how innocence worked; he was a bookman, so it was a strong possibility.   
  
“Hey,” Alma started, almost sounding slightly cautious as he tried to think about how to word his question.  “Is activating innocence usually…difficult?”  
  
Lavi looked at Alma inquisitively.  “What, you having trouble activating it?” He asked, causing Alma to look away sheepishly.  Lavi just shrugged.  “I guess it can be.  But your type is parasitic, isn’t it?  So it shouldn’t be as difficult for you as if it were equipment.”  
  
If Lavi’s words had been intended to act as reassurance, then it was a lousy success.  Alma’s innocence  _was_  parasitic from what everyone was saying, but he had no idea how long it would be before he could actually activate it.  
  
Alma’s unease clearly showed, because Lavi quickly realized his error.  He laughed somewhat nervously.  “But it is different for everyone!  So I wouldn’t freak out too much over it,” Lavi spoke, before sobering a little more.  “Anyways, considering that it synchronized with you without any prompting, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to use it soon.  It’s not like innocence will just connect to anyone like that.”  
  
Well, these words were a bit more comforting, and Alma nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess I just got a little worried,” He said, before offering an appreciative smile to Lavi.  “Thanks.”  
  
Lavi looked as though he were about to say something, but Alma could see the other young man pause, as he looked behind Alma. Curious as to what Lavi was distracted by, Alma turned. To his surprise, there were two servant women lingering near the corner. They had been staring over at where Alma and Lavi were, but as soon as they saw they had been caught both women hurried back to their duties swiftly.  
  
Alma blinked. That was odd – he had never seen any of the servants act…strange, perhaps was the word?  
  
“Guess word is starting to get out that you synchronized,” Lavi observed. “Like I said: it’s bound to cause a stir.”  
  
Alma looked back at Lavi, bewildered. “You really think it’s that big a deal?”  
  
Lavi laughed lightly. “Not enough that I would suggest you freak out over it. But you’re royalty – you should know how gossip is with people.   Eventually they’ll get used to it.”  
  
There was a pause, and Lavi tilted his head to the side. “You talk to your family anymore about it? After yesterday.”  
  
Alma shook his head, eyes falling downcast. “No…I’m kind of nervous about what my stepfather is going to say…”  
  
Lavi crossed his arms. “Can’t say I blame you there. Just don’t deal with him if you don’t have to,” He said. “That ball thing is coming up anyways, right? Maybe he and your mother will be so distracted that they won’t even bring it up.”  
  
_‘Doubtful,’_ Alma thought, before it hit him: the ball was coming up. As in it was supposed to be the two days. Maybe it was a good thing, though. It _would_ help to distract everyone, and take the attention off of Alma for a bit.  
  
Alma could only hope.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Arcaia bordered Engelus. It was just a bit farther up, and slightly west; not a terribly extraneous distance away, although it could often feel like such. Arcaia was a closed off country, with its territory heavily guarded at all times. Trade interactions were kept to a minimum, and travel to and from Arcaia was just as scarce.  
  
For some, this was not an issue. For others, it was stifling.  
  
The Arcaian castle where the nobles dwelt was often dark. Even when the sun was visible and the sky bright, the structure loomed with a heavy weight, and the windows were enveloped in blackness. Even when open, and devoid of curtains – the windows were always dark.  
  
There were rumors. Rumors that the castle was haunted, or even cursed; the townspeople were quiet, and tried to keep to themselves. It was not a place that existed in liveliness of merriment, but one that rather existed in hushed voices and shifting eyes. Wary glances. Locked doors.  
  
People kept to themselves, and that’s just how it was.  
  
From a window high above, a girl sat up along the edge. A dangerous position to be in, given that falling would have easily resulted in splattered limbs and broken bones. But she didn’t seem to notice. She was young, possibly an adolescent with a pixie-like stature and short, wild dark hair. Her eyes were a violet so deep that they were almost onyx in color, with the pupils nearly dissolving into the irises.  
  
As she sat there, the girl held something: a hand mirror, small yet beautifully crafted. The materials were a dark pewter that had almost a violet undertone, and the surface of the glass was smooth and without a scratch of imperfection.  
  
The door opened, as someone entered into the room. The girl didn’t look up, but she already knew who had entered.  
  
“Hi, Tyki,” She greeted sweetly. “Did you come to wish me a safe trip?”  
  
Tyki leaned against the doorway. He appeared to be in his early or mid-twenties, with long dark hair that cascaded around his face in loose waves. His clothes were well-tailored, and an indication of his noble ranking – yet they were slightly unkempt, and added to his somewhat disheveled appearance.  
  
He grinned. “Something like that,” He spoke. “Though I think it’s everyone else who runs into you who will need safe wishes, Road.”  
  
Road turned, and smiled. “Aw. You’re so complimentary today,” She gushed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? I’m sure Sheril would _love_ to see you.”  
  
Tyki shrugged. “I’ll pass, and let my brother shower you in unwanted affection,” He responded. “Anyways, you know I need to stay here. For now.”  
  
“Better you than me. I’ve been so _bored_ lately,” Road drawled out, as she out the window. “I hope something dreadful happens there. I want some fun already.”  
  
“With you there, I’m sure it’s likely to happen,” Tyki said, a smirk on his lips. “So have fun.”  
  
Road looked back at Tyki, and a mischievous gleam danced in her eyes. Then, without warning, the irises shifted, and the dark color lightened to a molten gold. “Oh, I will,” She said. “I definitely will.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after editing this //long ass// chapter, it’s finally up. (It ended up being over 8K? I wanted to die. XD)
> 
> A lot happens here, and going back through it I’m pretty satisfied with how it turned out. We get a lot of insight into some of the characters’ heads - especially Klaud and Tricia, who we don’t always get as much of. 
> 
> Klaud is someone I really love, primarily because she just isn’t intimidated or easily influenced by Sheril. There’s so much friction and animosity looming between the two, but it’s sort of just unaddressed because there’s only so much Klaud can do given her position. It becomes even more complicated, because in this chapter it’s confirmed that Klaud and Tricia have known each other since they were girls. (So, there’s some history there - which is one reason Tricia may be partial to exorcists, and more sympathetic toward them.)
> 
> Tricia...also I really love, and I love her the more I write her. She’s fragile, but has a lot of depth, and I like her a lot in this chapter because we somewhat get a mother’s perspective on having a child of theirs become an accommodator (which, that’s something we don’t actually see in DGM - the closest thing is probably Komui and Lenalee). It was a trickier thing to write, since Tricia and Alma aren’t as close as they used to be thanks to Sheril - but I think there is something about having a child suddenly placed into such a situation, and a level of maternal instinct that can kick in (to be honest, I sometimes think of my own mother when I write Tricia).
> 
> (Also, I wanted to briefly mention the bit about Tricia remembering pricking her finger while the snow falls, when she realizes she’s pregnant with Alma - it’s basically me being a fairy tale nerd, and referencing the original Snow White story. If you’re familiar with it, Snow White’s mother has a similar experience.)
> 
> Speaking of, I’m going to move onto Alma. As always, I love writing him, and he’s been developing in an interesting way for this AU. Given how his life has been with the way Sheril has treated him, he’s not the most assertive and confident person (yet), and will often second-guess things when they come to his own personal abilities. It’s already been showing up, but the innocence is something that may definitely bring that out more, and it’ll be interesting to see what development arises out of that. He’s still so adorable though, and is so eager and optimistic to try to be more helpful in some way to the other exorcists - definitely an idealist, which can be just as good as it can be bad.
> 
> And finally, Road. Oh, Road is on the way, and Tyki made an appearance (because I couldn’t not sneak him in at least once). Tyki won’t really be in this fic much though (not like he was in Lotus in the Snow), and Road is going to be playing a larger role along with Sheril. That mirror is also something to look out for (the Snow White elements will probably start to kick in a bit more in the next few chapters).
> 
> So, a monster-length chapter with monster-length notes. XD Thank you again to everyone who has been commenting and supporting this story! It means a lot, because I don’t think I’ve enjoyed writing something as much as I have with this, and it’s been amazing so far.
> 
> The next update will hopefully be no later than sometime next week, and it’ll be a good one. ;D


	7. Night of the Autumn Ball

_Snap._  
  
The whip lashed out, cracking onto the ground with a thunderous volume.  Alma managed to dodge it, but the leather whip had come  _dangerously_  close to his leg; had he been just a millisecond slower, it would have cracked down, and done a plethora of damage.  
  
Alma didn’t have time to think though, because Klaud was cracking that whip, and the woman was damn near  _savage_.  
  
“You’re too slow!” Klaud shouted, as she again cracked the whip – this time, on the other side of Alma, causing him to jump back.  He nearly lost his footing, but quickly caught himself, regaining his balance just in time to dodge  _another_ attack.  
  
Alma gritted his teeth.  He was already sweating a lot, as he and Klaud had been doing this for a while now: different training exercises.  The morning had started off with some meditation, as Klaud had been having Alma work on the past two days, but the day before she had started to have Alma work on skills such as agility, coordination, and strength as well.    
  
It wasn’t the first time that Klaud had worked with Alma on such things, but it was definitely the first time Klaud had acted this  _intensely_.  Was this how she had been when Suman started training as an exorcist as well?  Alma wondered, and it certainly would have explained why Suman never wanted to cross Klaud.  
  
After a few moments longer, Klaud ceased her attacks.  She took hold of her whip, pulling it back.  “That’s enough for now, but we’ll have to pick this up tomorrow.  Akuma are fast, and their attacks are relentless,” She lectured.  “Even when you’re able to activate your innocence, you’ll still have to rely on your own body to survive.”  
  
Alma panted, as he was still trying to catch his breath.  Even though he had just been  _dodging,_  the speed at which he had needed to move and the amount of focus he had used had still taken a large amount of energy out of him.  Having been doing this for the past two days, he was also sore, and could definitely feel his muscles burning – primarily in his legs and calves.    
  
Still, Alma nodded, head slightly tilted forward as he was bent down, trying to get his adrenaline to slow.  “G-got it…” He breathed, as his pulse still throbbed.  
  
Klaud crossed her arms.  “Can you sense anything yet?” She asked, attention focused intently on Alma’s left forearm.  
  
Alma looked up, at first a little confused.   He felt tired and worn out from the training, but when he saw what Klaud was looking at he caught on.  
  
Alma shook his head.  “No…” He answered, as he stood more upright.    
  
It had been three days since Alma had synchronized with the innocence, and in those three days nothing had been able to activate it.  Klaud had reiterated that it didn’t mean anything bad – only that it might just take a little time in Alma’s case.  However, Alma couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was just doing something  _wrong_.  Even if his skills wouldn’t be refined for a while, he should have at least been able to activate his innocence.  So why couldn’t he?  It was really beginning to bother Alma, and he didn’t even know what kind of weapon his innocence would even turn into once activated.  
  
Klaud uncrossed her arms.  As usual, Lau Shimin had been lingering on one shoulder, somehow staying put even in the midst of training.  He blinked his eyes, and made a small chattering noise.  
  
Klaud closed her eyes, and nodded in response to Alma’s earlier answer.  “We’ll get there eventually,” She said.  She then opened her eyes.  “We won’t do anymore training for today though.  Things will be busy enough as it is with the ball taking place.”  
  
Alma looked at Klaud, finally having seemed to recover a bit more.  “You’ll be there tonight too, right?” He asked.  
  
“As I am every year, and so will Suman,” Klaud answered.  “You should probably get yourself cleaned up.  I hear some of the council members may come, and I imagine they’ll seek you out at some point.”  
  
Alma looked at Klaud uncertainly.  “Really?” He asked.  In the past, council members had at times come to the Autumn Ball – but they never really spoke to Alma.  Perhaps they gave a polite acknowledgement, given he was the prince, but for the most part they only ever seemed to interact with his mother and stepfather.  To think of them wanting to speak to Alma now for  _any_  reason was a bit strange.  
  
“You’re an exorcist now,” Klaud stated simply.  “And a royal.  I highly doubt they’ll turn a blind eye to that.”  
  
“Oh,” Alma said, figuring it  _was_  a rather obvious reason.  Still, he felt somewhat awkward thinking about it.  
  
Klaud noticed Alma’s hesitancy.  “You’ll be fine,” Klaud emphasized.  “But you should go on, and start to get ready.  Tonight will come quickly.”  
  
The door to the training room opened, and both Alma and Klaud turned.  A castle staff person entered: a young man with light brown hair and hazel eyes.  Alma had seen him around the castle a few times, but couldn’t say he knew the person well.  
  
The servant looked in between Klaud and Alma, and appeared hesitant.  “Ah, I’m sorry to be interrupting,” He said with a small bow.  
  
“You haven’t interrupted anything,” Klaud said.  “What is it you need?”  
  
“Lord Sheril sent me,” The servant answered, before his brown eyes briefly moved over to Alma.  “He requested that the prince see him in his study at once.”  
  
At first, Alma thought he heard incorrectly.  The training might have finally gotten to him, or even the stress he was feeling at not having been able to activate his innocence yet.  But the servant was looking at him, waiting for a response, and Alma realized with slight shock that he  _had_  heard correctly.  
  
“He wants to see me right now?” Alma asked, wondering if there was  _any_  leeway to the whole “at once” part.  Alma wasn’t really a vain person, but if Sheril were bothering to summon him then Alma would have  _at least_  preferred to not be a sweaty, disheveled mess like he was now.  
  
The servant nodded.  “Yes, your highness.  He was very clear.”  
  
Alma rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced at Klaud.  She didn’t say anything, but there was a somewhat pensive look on her face as well.    
  
“Guess I’ll go see what he wants to talk about…” Alma said, hoping he didn’t sound as uncertain as he felt.  
  
Alma left the training room with the servant, not really getting a chance to say anymore than a small goodbye to Klaud and Lau.  He wished he could have though; Alma’s thoughts were already spiraling as he tried to figure out just what it was that  _Sheril_  of all people wanted to discuss with him.  Something with his mother perhaps?  No, there had been health scares before with the queen and even then Sheril had never been the one to tell Alma.  In fact, Sheril had never asked to speak to Alma about  _anything_  really.  Even when Alma had been a child, Sheril had just more or less waved Alma off as though he were something rather inconsequential.    
  
As Alma continued along, he glanced at the silver bracer on his arm.   _‘It has to be about the innocence,’_  Alma concluded, realizing that it was the only thing this could have been in regards to.    
  
Since Alma had synchronized, Sheril had been oddly quiet on the subject – which had struck Alma as odd, given how vocal Sheril tended to be about things like innocence and exorcists.  But the day after Alma had synchronized, Alma had crossed paths with Sheril while walking in the hallway – and Sheril had stopped briefly upon noticing the innocence.  
  
Alma could still remember the intense way his stepfather had just  _stared_  at it.  It was a strange experience, and one that had caused Alma to freeze, almost too on edge to move for some unspoken reason.  The gaze Sheril had given had just been  _petrifying_.  
  
Then, without uttering a word, Sheril had continued on.  After that, Sheril had hardly acknowledged that Alma even was an accommodator, and the incident was never mentioned.  
  
_‘Except now he wants to talk about something,’_  Alma thought, as a small frown appeared on his face.   _‘But what exactly?’_  
  
They arrived to their destination far more quickly than Alma would have liked; he felt unprepared, and coming straight from a training session wasn’t ideal either.  He was tired, as well as famished – training always caused Alma to work up an appetite, but ever since he had synchronized such had been even more apparent.  
  
God, Alma just hoped that whatever this meeting was about would go  _quickly_.  He wasn’t in a state to do well with focus – which wasn’t very promising considering Alma could ever focus too long on anything to begin with.  
  
The servant gave a small bow, and left Alma outside the door.  Alma glanced at it, holding off on knocking for as many seconds as he felt he could get away with.  Then, when Alma knew he couldn’t put it off any longer, he knocked on the door.  
  
“It’s Alma,” Alma said, as he tried to ignore the way his heart beat nervously in his chest.   _‘It’s probably nothing to freak out over.  Stop psyching yourself out over it.’  
  
_ There was a beat that passed, although to Alma it dragged on horribly.  Sheril’s voice could be heard from the other side of the door.  
  
“Come in.”  
  
Alma swallowed, and pushed the door open.  The study seemed dark, even though the curtains were pulled aside to let light in; Alma wasn’t sure why that was.  He had only been in Sheril’s study once when he was younger, which had been purely accidental and out of childish curiosity.  Alma had been about ten at the time, somewhat nosing around and out of boredom going through the different castle rooms.  He had happened upon this one, and peeked inside.  
  
But, Alma had quickly realized it was Sheril’s study, and before he could get caught Alma had crept out.  Alma had hardly looked around all that time ago, but the dim lighting was the one thing he could recall.  There had also been a eerie feeling that had followed him into the room, which even now seemed to somehow return.    
  
Sheril was at his desk, seated looking at something.  He had not yet acknowledged Alma though.  
  
Alma shifted, as he spoke first.  “Um…I was told you wanted to speak with me?”  
  
“Have a seat,” Sheril said, without even looking up from the papers he had been reading over.  
  
Warily, Alma did as Sheril instructed, sitting down in the chair on the opposite side of Sheril’s desk.  
  
Shuffling the papers, Sheril placed them to the side as he finally looked at Alma.  His eyes immediately scanned Alma, as he took note of the prince’s appearance.  “You’ve been training I see.”  
  
“I just finished a session,” Alma answered, feeling somewhat scrutinized.   “Klaud’s been training me the past few mornings.”  
  
“I see,” Sheril said.  “And you’ve been training with your innocence I presume?”  
  
There was a fluidity in which Sheril spoke, as though them speaking was the most natural thing in the world.  Alma felt anything but; the whole conversation – or whatever it was – already felt like a struggle.   
  
Alma glanced at his arm. “I haven’t been able to activate it yet…” He admitted.  “So we’ve been training in other ways.”  
  
This seemed to spark something in Sheril, as his dark eyes gleamed with something Alma couldn’t quite put his finger on  “Really, then?” He spoke, as his voice held a note of intrigue.  “How interesting.  I heard the innocence was quite deliberate in synchronizing with you.”  
  
Alma fidgeted a little in his seat, feeling a bit antsy.  He wasn’t sure where this whole thing was going, but something felt _off_ somewhere.  “Is this…what you wanted to talk about?” Alma asked, hoping that Sheril would at least be  _somewhat_  direct in why he had called for him.  “You hadn’t really commented on it in the past few days, so I wasn’t sure…”  
  
“That’s true,” Sheril confirmed.  “I hadn’t said much, primarily out of concern for your mother.  I’m sure you noticed what a shock it was for her.”  
  
Oh, Alma  _noticed_.  He could still recall vividly her coming down to the infirmary, frantic and looking as though he were about to make herself faint with worry.  Alma  _still_  felt guilty about it.  
  
“It can’t be helped – but I did wish to speak to you about some things.  This is a setting I thought would be appropriate.”  
  
To this, Alma said nothing and instead listened, waiting for Sheril to go on.  When Sheril saw he had the prince’s undivided attention, he did just that.  
  
“I understand we haven’t seen...eye to eye on certain things,” Sheril started to say, as he watched Alma closely.  “Such as the amount of time you like to spend around the exorcists, or the trust you place into them.”  
  
“But they  _are_  trustworthy,” Alma found himself saying, before he could think to hold back.  Honestly, was Sheril really about to go into  _this_  topic again?  “Klaud has known Mother for years, and Suman cares for his family so much – he’d do  _anything_  for them.  They’re good people!”  
  
Sheril was silent, and Alma realized that his interruption had likely been interpreted as rudeness.  Alma tried to backpedal a bit.  “I just…don’t understand why you’re so averse to them in particular.  They’ve never done anything wrong, and they constantly do what they can for us.  It…seems a bit unfair to be so judging of them.”  
  
Well, so much for backpedaling.    
  
Sheril interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin on them.  Eyes intense, the continued to bore into Alma, with a gaze so strong Alma could swear it burned.  Alma wondered if perhaps he had gone too far with speaking out, but what could he have done?  Sit there, and let Sheril talk down about Klaud and Suman, and all the other exorcists who had to make sacrifices?  Even before having become an accommodator himself, it had always bothered Alma with how Sheril had spoken of the exorcists, and now it was like he just couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
Sheril sighed.  “It’s sweet how blindingly trusting and idealistic you can be.  I’m sure it’s why you’ve grown to be so likable, and those are qualities that will certainly make you appeal to people when you take the throne.”   
  
Eyes opening, Sheril’s dark irises pierced Alma’s: they were like two obsidian pieces of night staring into the vibrancy of a sky blue day.  “But those qualities aren’t practical.  I don’t expect you to understand this yet, either, given your lack of experience in these affairs,” Sheril expressed coolly.  “However, you’ve entered into a situation where you’ll be in the company of these exorcists constantly.  A misfortune really.”  
  
Alma frowned.  “It’s not a misfortune if I’m  _helping_  in some way.  That’s what they do-”  
  
“I’m not saying their skills aren’t useful.  I’m merely warning you not to be so willfully ignorant of how fickle these individuals may be.”  
  
“Why are you so insistent that the exorcists will betray us?” Alma asked, frustration beginning to show.  He had been trying  _really_  hard to hold back, as he often needed to with Sheril.  However, something about this interaction was really grating onto Alma, agitating him more than usual.  Maybe it was being in an enclosed room with Sheril, or maybe Alma was tired after all that had transpired over the past few days, but he was growing impatient of Sheril’s assumptions.  “If only you’d get to  _know_ them-“  
  
“You think I haven’t?” Sheril asked, words challenging as they caused Alma to cease speaking.  The man leaned back in his seat, and exhaled in soft exasperation.  Sheril massaged the bridge of his nose, looking as though he were trying to keep himself collected all the same.  
  
“Alma,” Sheril started to say, with a tinge of irritation trickling in his tone.  “I know this is hard to comprehend, and that I must seem like some villain who is so  _unjustly_ accusing exorcists.  But I’ve seen how they can be.”  
  
Sheril paused, as he caught Alma’s gaze.  “If you recall, I visited my homeland of Arcaia in the past – one being around two years ago, just before that…horrible event.”  
  
Alma looked up.  “You mean the exorcist who went mad?”  
  
Surprisingly, Sheril’s lips curled into a smile.  “Yes,” He spoke.  “You see, I knew the exorcist.  He was young, and promising.  I’d even go as far to say he was a prodigy given how skilled he was at fighting he was; we had high hopes that he may become one of the next generals.”  
  
Sheril continued.  “But, without warning he betrayed us by slaughtering another exorcist in his unit.  There was no warning, or reason ever determined – but it was one example of how easily corruptible exorcists can be,” He explained coolly.  “In time, you’ll learn exorcists are quite resentful of their situation.  It’s for this reason I suspect that accommodators don’t always want to come forward – they know their fate is sealed.  Yours, however, may have a chance of being…less grim.”  
  
Alma’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying…”  
  
Sheril raised an eyebrow.  “You’re still royalty, and since you’re in line for the throne there will still be a need for the other exorcists to ensure your safety.  I’m sure you can imagine it may cause some…tension from the other exorcists when they have to prioritize things in such a way.”  
  
It finally clicked, and Alma was now following Sheril’s line of thinking more clearly – and he didn’t like it at all.  “My life shouldn’t be more important than theirs.”  
  
“Perhaps not, but that’s how it is,” Sheril affirmed.  “Hopefully now you’re at least beginning to see just how complicated these matters are.”  
  
Alma inhaled, not sure how he was supposed to take this all.  He definitely could see it  _was_  complicated, though he wasn’t sure if it were for the exact same reasons that Sheril found it to be.  “I do,” Alma admitted.  “But I’m  _not_ going to treat any of the exorcists I know differently, or stop interacting with them just because of someone else’s actions.”  
  
Did Alma sound naïve?  It was likely, and even he couldn’t deny that much.  But at the very least, Alma knew that he couldn’t suddenly just question people like Klaud or Suman – not when they had done so much for him, and grown to be such important people in his life.  Maybe Alma did need to be warier…but not of them.    
  
Alma just hoped that Sheril could understand that much.  
  
Sheril didn’t respond immediately, and the room fell into something of an uneasy silence.  Alma didn’t make any move to take back his words though, and instead chose to stand his ground on the matter.  
  
Finally, Sheril spoke.  “I see,” He said simply.  “Well, that was all I had to discuss.  You may go.”  
  
Surprise flickered in Alma’s eyes.  He hadn’t thought that Sheril would just…be so  _relaxed_ about what he had said, and even dismiss him that quickly.  However, Alma was unwilling to tempt his luck, and stood, leaving before Sheril had any reason to stop him.  
  
Alma shut the door behind him, and a shudder of a breath escaped him.  As he had left, the prince had been able to feel Sheril’s eyes on him, watching him closely.  It made Alma feel weird, and he never could explain why, but also unsettled.  And the nature of their conversation had only caused that discomfort to intensify.  
  
_‘That was so uncomfortable…’_  Alma thought, as he reflected on the whole interaction.  It wasn’t a disagreement that he had been unaware existed, but actually having a situation where Sheril felt the need to discuss it privately had not been a pleasant experience at all.  
  
Taking another breath, Alma tried to focus.  It was over now, and if anything Alma could only hope that it would blow over, and that Sheril wouldn’t take Alma’s disagreeing viewpoints in some strange, offensive way.  Maybe it  _was_  just Sheril’s way of trying to be protective – Alma didn’t know.  He would have liked to have thought the man’s intentions were good.  
  
But somehow, Alma struggled to be even that optimistic. 

 

* * *

  
  
Evening came, and it came quickly just as Klaud had predicted.  Once Alma had returned to his chambers, he was abruptly intercepted by several attendants – all of who were absolutely  _intent_  on ensuring that their prince would be at his most presentable.    
  
Naturally, Alma didn’t have much of a choice in the matter; it was one of his least favorite things about such large festivities.  He generally enjoyed them, but the process of getting ready was always awkward and annoying.  Alma had never been one who liked it when people fussed over his appearance, and as a child he had always squirmed when getting dressed up for anything.  He had gotten a bit better since getting older, but it hadn’t helped much that the attendants only seemed to fret even  _more_ the older he got.  
  
The whole ordeal eventually passed though, which came as a relief to Alma.  He didn’t linger around; once the attendants freed him, Alma was swift in his departure.  Since he had been intercepted after a fairly intensive training session, the attendants had been rather merciless in ensuring that Alma was scrubbed down and primed to perfection – something that had left his skin feeling raw, and the formal attire stiff against his skin.  
  
But, the attendants  _had_  done a splendid job – that no one could argue.  Alma had been dressed in exquisite finery for the occasion, with his attire consisting of light blue and gold tones for the occasion.    
  
Alma rubbed his wrist, as he walked along.  Even as far as he was down the hall, he could already hear the voices of all the guest and attendees where the Autumn Ball was taking place.  He knew he wasn’t late though; there were people still arriving, and it was quite early in the evening.  In the back of his mind, Alma wondered if Lavi would be able to make it after all.  He had not heard about when Bookman and his apprentice were to leave yet, and Alma was hopeful that he would have someone around close to his age to talk to.  
  
When Alma arrived, he glanced around, momentarily in awe of the way the castle staff had outdone themselves.  The ballroom was always grand, with ornate architectural designs and a remarkable chandelier that dangled from the center of the ceiling.  Its beauty was always prominent, and it never ceased to be a space that Alma couldn’t help but appreciate; however, it somehow was even more breathtaking that evening.  Decorations had been hung, and flowers arranged, and the room was filled with all sorts of guests adorned in glittering ware and garments –some already dancing, and others socializing.    
  
Alma’s eyes scanned the ballroom, as he sought a familiar face.  Many of the guests were nobles and relatives of other royal families who had attended before, but there were so many that it was hard for Alma to keep track of.  He knew a few, but wasn’t so close with some of them that he was entirely at ease with going up to them and starting a conversation out of nowhere.  He had tried that in the past, but more often than not the conversations were awkward, and surface-level in nature.  
  
Soon, Alma caught a sight of shocking red hair, and a face with a familiar eye patch.  Before he could lose him in the crowd, Alma ran over to where Lavi was.  “Lavi!” Alma called.  
  
Lavi turned, having been lingering near where the food had been placed.  He grinned when he saw Alma.  “Wow, look at you getting all fancy tonight,” He playfully complimented.  
  
Alma laughed lightly.  “Haha, I couldn’t exactly get around it,” He said.  “I’m so glad you were able to stay for this though!”  
  
“As am I,” Lavi agreed.  “Nice food. Good music. I need to convince Bookman that we should be at these things more often!”  
  
“Well this is an annual thing, so you’d already have next year to look forward to,” Alma pointed out.  
  
“Ugh, that’s so far already!” Lavi whined.  
  
Alma’s eyes glimmered with amusement, but then his attention flickered to just beyond Lavi.  Not too far away, a group of several young noblewomen had gathered, and were chattering about something.  Periodically, their eyes would move over to where Alma and Lavi were, before they would giggle innocently.  
  
Lavi turned, and his one visible eye all but bulged out.  “Damn, what a bunch of  _strikes_!” He exclaimed, before looking back at Alma. “Alma, you’re royalty!  Be my wingman!”  
  
“What?  I don’t know how to do that!” Alma exclaimed, not sure if he was exactly  _wingman_ material.    
  
“Of course you do!” Lavi argued, before pulling Alma along without any warning.  
  
They went over to where the girls were, where Alma was dragged along somewhat awkwardly.  Lavi at least seemed to be more comfortable, which was good; hopefully he had done this before.    
  
The girls giggled again when approached, and Lavi smiled charmingly at them.  “You ladies look lovely tonight!  Are you enjoying yourselves?”  
  
One of them nodded. – a girl with chestnut brown hair, and dark brown eyes.  “Yes,” She replied with a flirtatious smile.  Some of her friends stifled another round of giggles, as a few them looked over at Alma.  
  
Alma shifted a little, and glanced away as he felt heat rise to his cheeks.  He never knew how to act in these situations, but as Lavi continued to talk Alma figured that he could at least hang around as moral support – or whatever it was that Lavi had needed him for “wingman” wise.  
  
The conversation (mainly Lavi and the girls) continued on for a few minutes more.  As this transpired, Alma felt his attention begin to wander.  There were people all around, and the voices seemed to blend into the music that was being played into a seamless cacophony.  But while looking around, Alma was able to spot Klaud and Suman; they were a bit more off to the side, not in the middle of everything and both in a more formal variant of their exorcist attire.  
  
Not wanting to miss getting to say hi to them, Alma turned to Lavi.  “I’ll be back in a minute,” He said, as he left Lavi to his flirting, before slipping away.  
  
Navigating through the crowd was a bit of a challenge.  Even since Alma had arrived, more guests had arrived, and the ballroom was filled to capacity.  Alma supposed it was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic or anything; he occasionally would bump into someone, though that usually resulted in someone greeting him and wanting to exchange pleasantries.  It was a bit chaotic, but Alma was managing.  
  
At one point, Alma thought he saw his mother and stepfather.  They looked as though they were speaking with someone, but a few people moved around Alma and he lost sight of them.  He then realized that he had lost sight of Klaud and Suman as well.  
  
_‘Great…’_  Alma thought, wondering if maybe he should just turn around and head back to where Lavi was.  
  
Alma turned, and nearly collided with someone.  “Sorry-“ He started to apologize, but froze up upon recognizing the individual: Malcolm C. Lvellier.  
  
Abashed, Alma quickly tried to give a more formal response.  “Ah, apologies, your majesty,” He said with a small bow, feeling quite idiotic for having just run into the current  _ruler_  of Lyons – as well as the individual who tended to lead the council.  
  
Lvellier was unflinching, with his thin eyebrows arched and expression as harsh as ever.  “That’s alright, Prince Alma,” Lvellier responded.  “I had actually hoped to run into you – though literally wasn’t ideal.”  
  
Alma looked back at Lvellier, just as the man continued speaking.  “I hear you’re the new accommodator they found.  Quite the surprise.”  
  
Alma nodded.  “It was a bit unexpected…”  
  
“You’re already in training, I imagine?”  
  
“Yes.  I’m training under Klaud,” Alma responded.  
  
Lvellier nodded.  “I’m sure you’ll become quite a valuable asset to the unit.  We’re in need of exorcists – they’ve become annoyingly difficult to locate,” He expressed, as his nose pinched in what appeared to be disgust.  “It’s become disgraceful really – likely others have synchronized, but are in hiding.  Hopefully you can set a better example.”  
  
Alma was a bit taken aback.  He knew that there was definitely tension between the royals and the exorcists, but hearing Lvellier discuss them in such a way was off-putting to say in the least.  A small frown appeared on Alma’s face.  “They’re  _people_ ,” Alma pointed out, not sure what was spurning him on.  Maybe he was still in a somewhat off mood after having dealt with Sheril earlier.  “And they probably have families – maybe they’re afraid, not only for themselves but for them as well.”  
  
Lvellier’s eyes flashed, and he arched a brow.  “I didn’t realize you felt so passionately about this given your lack of involvement before now,” Lvellier pointed out icily.  “Perhaps you would have an alternative plan to handling the situation?”  
  
The question was posed sharply, and Alma faltered.  He hadn’t thought that far ahead.  “I…” He started to say, as he scrambled for something that wouldn’t sound entirely ludicrous.  
  
“Lvellier,” Sheril spoke, having just appeared.  He then glanced over at Alma.  “I see you’ve found my stepson.  Hopefully he isn’t boring you.”  
  
“The contrary really,” Lvellier replied.  “Alma here was just expressing his thoughts on the exorcists.  He’s quite the idealist.”  
  
At this, Sheril’s eyes flickered to Alma, and Alma stiffened.  His stepfather’s gaze was cutting, and sharp like two frosted blades.    
  
But, within a millisecond, the frigid look evaporated.  
  
If Lvellier noticed, he didn’t see a need to comment.  “You should bring Prince Alma to the next council meeting, Sheril.  I’d be very interested to hear more of what he has to say on the matter,” Lvellier said, before eying Alma.  “Perhaps by then you can share your proposal for how to deal with exorcists.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure by then he’ll be more than prepared,” Sheril cut in, as he placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder, almost causing the prince to shiver.  “I need to steal my stepson for now – his cousin is eager to meet him.”  
  
Alma turned, and looked at Sheril in confusion.  His cousin had arrived after all?  Alma recalled that she was supposed to come, but he hadn’t heard anything regarding her arrival at all.  
  
Lvellier nodded.  “Of course.”  
  
Sheril was swift in guiding Alma away after that, with his hand moving to Alma’s back.  Alma felt inclined to try to move away though, as it felt like something spidery and unpleasant was crawling up his spine.    
  
As Alma made an attempt to move, Sheril leaned in and whispered to him.  “Be careful of what you say.”  
  
Alma tensed a little, not liking how close Sheril was to him.  He quickly pulled away.  
  
Unfazed, Sheril continued on and Alma warily accompanied him.  Soon, Alma could see his mother, who was currently with someone: a girl, petite and at least several years younger than Alma. She was rather delicate in her appearance and somewhat doll-like, with porcelain skin and dark hair.  It was short, and adorned with a small bow off to the side, which complemented her plum-colored dress prettily.  
  
Sheril and Alma stopped just in front of where Tricia and the young girl were.  “Alma, this is your cousin, Road,” Sheril introduced.  “She’ll be staying with us for the next few days.”  
  
Alma’s eyes met Road’s, and he offered her a friendly smile.  “It’s nice to meet you,” He spoke.  
  
Road’s eyes seemed to sparkle, like two blackened pieces of stained glass.  “The pleasure’s mine.  I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” She said sweetly.  
  
“We’ll let you two get acquainted,” Tricia suggested kindly, as she let Sheril take her arm.  
  
Alma was left with Road after that, and turned his attention back to her.   “Are you enjoying your time here so far?” Alma asked politely.  “I know you just arrived probably, but I could always show you around if you’d like to see any specific during your stay.”  
  
Road smiled.  “It’s nice here,” She replied pleasantly.  “Drastically different than Arcaia – I was getting so  _bored_  being stuck back there.”  
  
Alma’s curiosity piqued a bit.  He didn’t know much about Arcaia, save from what he had heard from others or read in textbooks.  Sheril wasn’t someone Alma felt particularly comfortable asking about it either; but, perhaps he could ask Road about what Arcaia was like.  
  
“I did hear that you just synchronized with innocence.  Word spreads  _so_  fast,” Road suddenly spoke, cutting Alma off before he had a chance to speak.  “I never thought I’d have an exorcist for a cousin.  I can’t imagine how dreadful it must be.”  
  
Alma floundered a bit, mouth slightly agape.  Well, Road was  _definitely_  related to Sheril; if Alma hadn’t been convinced before, he was now.  
  
Alma tried to compose himself.  “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,” He countered.  Alma was a bit wary as he spoke though, as he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from Road anymore.  
  
“Really?  I’d be terrified,” Road added simply.  “Especially when it activates.  What kind of form does it even take for you?”  
  
Alma could already  feel himself becoming a bit exasperated, but he tried not to get ahead of himself.  Road was young, and maybe she actually  _was_  just curious.  Alma didn’t want to assume anything too extreme yet, so he went ahead and answered.  “I haven’t activated it yet.  It’s…taking some time.”  
  
“Aw,” Road replied, a disappointed edge to her voice.  “Maybe the innocence made a mistake then…”  
  
The comment, though spoken innocently, held an unpleasant sting.  Alma stared for a second, before he inhaled somewhat sharply.  “Excuse me,” He said, leaving rather abruptly.  
  
He didn’t wait for Road to say or do anything – Alma just needed to leave.  It suddenly sounded too loud with the music and voices in his ears, and it suddenly felt constricting to be around so many people.  Maybe Alma just was becoming overwhelmed; it was hot, and stifling, and he needed to  _breathe_.  
  
Air.  He needed fresh air.    
  
A few people tried to intercept Alma, but he was quick to evade them.  It probably seemed strange, and a little rude; Alma knew that it was expected he be social at this events.  However, he felt as though he was wearing a mask, and that it was coming close to cracking.  It was like there was a sudden pressure weighing down, and that if Alma didn’t do something soon it would  _crush_  him.  
  
_‘Just get outside,’_  Alma told himself.  
  
Eventually, Alma was able to make it out of the more crowded area of the ballroom, and to the edge were it wasn’t so clustered.  There was an exit, which led out onto a large, spacious balcony; it was left open to help circulate the air, while also allowing for guests to go out on it if they so pleased.  
  
Briskly, Alma exited out onto the balcony.  There were a few people outside, but they were sparse. Alma was able to find an isolated spot somewhat easily, and walked over, resting his arms on the marbled edge.  
  
Alma leaned over, and a heavy sigh escaped him.  He then glanced up at the sky; it was clear, and in it hung a waning crescent moon.  
  
Moving his arm, Alma looked down, and pulled up his left sleeve.  Because it had been long, the sleeve had concealed his innocence; now that Alma was looking at it, he could see the silver glinting in the moonlight, lovely and ethereal in appearance.  
  
In his head, Road’s words echoed:  _“Maybe the innocence made a mistake then…”_  
  
Alma bit his lip.   _Could_  the innocence have made a mistake?  Alma didn’t think so – not after the way the synchronization had taken place.  However, Road’s comment had struck something within Alma, and now he really  _was_ worried.  
  
Expect, these feelings were not  _that_  new. Not when Alma thought about it.  
  
Alma ran his thumb over the silver bracer, as he stared down at the detail.  There was a distant look in his eyes.  
  
What if Alma  _wasn’t_ cut out for being an exorcist?  Alma didn’t even know if he was cut out to be  _royalty_  most of the time, let alone some kind of soldier for the council.  He had never been that involved in the kingdom’s affairs, but now that he had become an accommodator it was as though Alma had been thrown into the middle of a viper pit without warning.  Between Sheril and Lvellier, Alma was already more than a little overwhelmed, and thinking that he would have to eventually meet with them on a council was terribly  _daunting_.  
  
Another small breath escaped Alma.  Maybe Sheril was right – maybe Alma hadn’t known what he was talking about after all.    
  
It was times likes these that Alma really wished his father were around.  
  
There were soft footsteps, but Alma didn’t pay them any attention at first, thinking it was likely another party attendant.  However, they stopped close to Alma, and he turned, looking up to see whom it was.  
  
Tricia was there, standing beside Alma.  She hadn’t said anything, so Alma had needed to do a double take; of all people, he certainly hadn’t expected to see his mother there.  
  
When Tricia saw Alma had taken notice of her, she spoke.  “I saw you come outside.  You left in a hurry.”  
  
Her words were soft, and held concern.  Alma looked away, quickly pulling his sleeve down.  
  
“It….got sort of hot in there.  I needed air,” Alma explained.  
  
Tricia’s eyes lingered on Alma, but she didn’t press him.  She didn’t leave either, and instead remained, standing beside Alma quietly at the balcony.    
  
“You know your father used to come out here during these events.  I think he liked being able to escape,” Tricia spoke, unexpectedly brining up the late king.  She turned to Alma, with something of a reminiscent smile on her face.  “You favor him so much.”  
  
This took Alma by surprise.  His mother could be so distant at times, and it was a rarity that his father was ever brought up.  It was surreal to even think that Tricia was standing there, talking about the late king with such ease – and even more surreal for Alma to be compared to him.  
  
Alma focused his attention on the marble railing.  “I miss him…” Alma said, the words spilling quietly from him.    
  
A sad look passed over Tricia, though her faint smile remained.  “I do too,” She admitted. “I know I haven’t been that…supportive a mother either…”  
  
Alma turned, completely caught off guard by Tricia’s words. He was even more taken aback when he could see the guilt visible across his mother’s refined features, marring her soft face sadly.    
  
“What?  No, that’s not true!” Alma countered, with a sudden compulsion to comfort his Tricia.  “You have to focus on so many things, and I know you do what you can!”  
  
Appreciation appeared in Tricia’s eyes.   “You’ve always been so sweet – I’m glad you’ve stayed that way,” She said.   The queen then took a moment, before glancing out from the balcony.  “With everything that’s been happening, I was thinking we haven’t been spending enough time together. “  
  
Tricia returned her focus to Alma, and continued with a suggestion.  “Maybe we should go apple picking.  You used to love that when you were younger.”  
  
For a moment, Alma completely forgot any stress or tension he had been experience, and his eyes seemed to brighten hopefully.  “Like when we used to go with Dad?” He asked, feeling as though he were a child once more, excitable and eager.    
  
When Tricia nodded, Alma beamed vibrantly.  “That’d be so much fun!  We haven’t done that in  _years_!”  
   
Tricia laughed softly.  “I thought you’d like that.  Why don’t we go tomorrow?  I’ve been inside so much lately, and I’m sure the physician would agree getting out would do me some good.”  
  
Alma smiled.  “Okay!” He said, excitement still brimming.  He couldn’t remember the last time his mother had actually initiated them spending any time together, and considering all that had happened…it  _would_  be a nice distraction, and it really couldn’t have come at a better time for Alma.  
  
Briefly looking back, Tricia spoke.  “I should go back inside now,” She said.  
  
Alma nodded, as his mother returned to where the ball was taking place.  He returned his focus to looking outside, taking in one last breath of fresh air.  
  
Alma remained outside a few minutes longer, before eventually returning inside.  


* * *

  
  
Sheril watched as Tricia left Alma on the balcony, before eying where Alma was.  He was standing a bit away, easily camouflaged by the shadows and near a smaller, separate exit that had led outside.  
  
From behind Sheril, Road appeared.  She looked over, to see who Sheril was watching. “Is he going to be a problem?” Road asked, although she hardly sounded worry.  “I wouldn’t mind taking care of him..”  
  
Amusement glinted in Sheril’s eyes.  “I’ll handle this,” Sheril reassured.  “He shouldn’t bee too difficult, and may benefit us yet.”  
  
Road looked with interest.  “Do you have something specific in mind?” She asked.    
  
“I do,” Sheril responded, as his eyes met Road’s.  “He was always a bit of a thorn in my side anyways.”  
  
Road casted a sideways glance, and watched as Alma returned inside, not long after the queen had.  “Your wife might not like that,” She pointed out, her voice tauntingly light.  
  
The ease in Sheril’s face briefly evaporated, as his gaze hardened.  “She won’t be an issue.”  
  
“I hope not,” Road commented.  “I was going to say it’d be rather silly for you to get attached to her.”  
  
The hardness in Sheril’s eyes dissolved, though something indistinguishable remained.  However, he smiled.  “Of course it would. Which is why you need not to worry about it,” Sheril confirmed.  “I already have a family I adore – I have no need for anyone else.”  
  
Hearing this, Road smiled.  “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with editing this chapter, and I have no idea /why/, but I’m glad it’s done. It ended up being decently long (7K?), and I hoping it didn’t drag too much. XD This is one of the last “calm” chapters before things start to really spiral, which will begin at the end of the next chapter (so, you’ve been warned - after that there’s a lot of tension and angsty things on the way, and the plot will /FINALLY/ start speeding up).
> 
> As much as it was a pain to edit, I did enjoy writing this chapter though. Sheril is always interesting to write, and he and Alma have some tense interactions (I’m pretty sure “Have a seat” is the universal death-sentence line that no one likes), and there’s a push and pull with how Alma will try to stand his ground then reel back. Sheril clearly has a way of keeping things under a level of control and using psychology to do it; he’s really crafty with words, and even things like touch he’ll use as a weapon (he’s just really invasive with space, and it’s totally a power play).
> 
> The ball scene was interesting, if only because it was more political. If anything, it was a good way to transition to this gradual realization Alma is having that politics point blank /suck/, and its just not a fun situation to be in. It’s even worse when you have poor self-esteem, and a lot of pressure from having some kind of weapon attached to your arm.
> 
> So, it was interesting to me, but ah,not sure how other people would feel about this chapter. xD After the next one, you can prepare for some suffering though.
> 
> As one last thing though, a few people have asked when Kanda will come in - and honestly, not for like around 5 more chapters. I swear, Yulma is definitely the end game, and romance will be more a focus, but this is something of a slowburn fic with a lot of build up. It’ll pay off, BUT I did want to point that out given people are asking about him. XD
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading and giving feedback! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. <3


	8. Before the Fall

The morning after the Autumn Ball was quiet. The previous night’s festivities had been long, and had extended well past midnight. Most people had not even retired until an ungodly hour, drunk off of rich wine and merriment. A few of the nobles who had traveled farther to attend had been provided rooms for the night, though many of them slept in. Only the castle staff seemed to be awake early on, in order to ensure everything would run as usual.  
  
Bookman, however, was one of the rare few awake at a decent hour.  
  
He was never one to sleep in, or even take a day off for that matter. Bookman understood all too well the value of time. Given the life he had chosen, he also knew that his role in the Bookman Clan left him with no room for slacking – which was something he had _tried_ to instill in his apprentice.  
  
Lavi yawned, as he was barely awake.  Bookman had been guiltless in making sure that Lavi was up early on, despite them both having been up later than normal.  Bookman had actually resorted to coming in and very forcefully waking Lavi; the apprentice had slept through Bookman’s knocks, and after several moments the older man had lost his patience.  
  
“I don’t know _how_  you’re awake,” Lavi grumbled, as he still tried to come to. He sat on the edge of his bed, slouched against the twisted sheets.  “I thought old people needed to sleep more…”  
  
Bookman’s eye twitched, and in a swift reflex he chucked a pen at Lavi, hitting him square in the forehead.  
  
Lavi yelped, before spewing several colorful words. Bookman lacked any remorse though, as he glared over at the apprentice. “Any more lip from you, and you’ll need a second eye patch.”  
  
As Lavi grumbled under his breath, Bookman ignored him, and instead went over to the bedside table where he had sat down some materials prior to waking Lavi. Among them, were some documents – a bit worn down, but preserved decently enough.   
  
Bookman picked up the documents, and walked over to Lavi. “Begin reading through these.”  
  
“Eh? This early in the morning?” Lavi asked, as he took the reading.  
  
“Did I say otherwise?” Bookman asked, tone clipped. “They’re important, and being a part of the Bookman Clan you need to take in whatever information you can.”  
  
Lavi flipped through the pages. He had to be careful, as the paper was thin and fragile. As he did so, his frown deepened. “Sheets from a medical journal?” He asked, as he glanced through the papers. His eyes skimmed over the words, which consisted of a lot of shorthand notes – a bit of a pain to read, but nothing difficult to decipher compared to translations Lavi had previously worked on. Accompanying the writing was a series of images: all dealing with what looked like illustrations of some kind of ailment.   
  
“Is it some sort of documentation?” Lavi continued to question. “It looks more observational than theoretical…”  
  
“It would appear so,” Bookman spoke, in response to the initial inquiry. “Make sure no one sees you with it.”  
  
Lavi paused, and looked at Bookman. His expression was serious. “Why?”  
  
“Don’t ask these questions now,” Bookman advised. “Just focus on reading what you can. We have to leave today, so you won’t have much time.”  
  
Given the tone in which Bookman spoke, Lavi’s expression remained somber. He looked back at the documents, now understanding why Bookman woke him up so early.  
  
Seeing that Lavi appeared to be taking this seriously, Bookman spoke again. “I need to attend to something. But I’ll be back.”  
  
Lavi nodded. “Aye, aye.”  
  
As Lavi began reading, Bookman took his leave.   
  


* * *

  
Tricia looked at Bookman. “You’re planning to leave today?”  
  
Bookman nodded. He had been fortunate enough to meet with the queen at a decent hour that morning, and had been surprised that she had even been available to speak. Given Tricia’s fickle health, Bookman was never too sure if he would be able to speak with her as opposed to dealing with her husband.   
  
“Yes, my apprentice and I really should leave no later than early afternoon,” Bookman responded. “We’ve already stayed longer than you were expecting, and you’ve been more than generous in accommodating our stay.”  
  
They were currently in one of the meeting rooms, which consisted of Tricia, Bookman, and also Klaud. The general had been rather quiet though, keeping off to the side as she remained near the queen.   
  
The queen nodded in response to Bookman. “Of course. Please know that you’re welcome here anytime,” Tricia offered kindly.  
  
Bookman paused, his eyes thoughtful. “I appreciate that, and will likely take you up on the offer,” He spoke somewhat bluntly. “I’d like to return soon to check on the prince’s progress.”  
  
A look of hesitation passed in Tricia’s eyes, as well as what looked to be a glimmer of concern. However, she did not backtrack from her offer. “I understand,” She said. There was a hint of something strained in her voice, but the queen did well to keep it repressed. “Let us know when you’d like to return, and we’ll see that preparations are made.”  
  
“Thank you, your majesty.”  
  
Tricia nodded. She then turned to Klaud. “Klaud, would you mind accompanying Bookman and seeing that he has what he needs before leaving?”  
  
Klaud stepped forward. “Not at all,” She answered, before turning to Bookman. “This way.”  
  
Bookman gave a final courtesy nod to the queen, where he then followed Klaud out of the room. He was silent, saying no words to the general as they exited the room.   
  
Once the door was shut, Bookman spoke up.  
  
“I imagine you’ll be keeping an eye on things,” Bookman commented, as his eyes moved over to Klaud.  
  
Klaud’s expression remained composed, as Lau Shimin remained on her shoulder soundlessly. In some ways, it might have seemed as though Klaud hadn’t heard Bookman. But, Bookman knew he had been audible, and that his words had reached the general’s ears. He knew that she had heard him.  
  
Bookman remained quiet, and waited.  
  
Finally, Klaud spoke quietly. “Did you find what you were looking for?”  
  
Bookman eyed Klaud, eyes shrewd. “Not quite,” He answered carefully. “But the journal you gave me will suffice. It will be returned before we depart in just a short while.”  
  
There was another moment in which Klaud said nothing, although her gaze was distant, and filled with a deep introspection that could only be described as remorseful.  
  
“I’ll watch more carefully this time,” Klaud spoke, her words like a small whisper of a breeze in the darkest part of night.  
  
Bookman stared, and said nothing.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
As the morning progressed, things began to pick up. The castle staff had already been awake plus a few others, but now those who had spent the night after the ball were awake, and preparing to take their leave. It was slightly chaotic, given the extra people and accommodations that had been made. Attendants and servants were rushing around trying to assist where they were needed, and long-winded farewells were being exchanged.   
  
Alma was among this chaos. It wasn’t how he would have ideally spent his morning, but it was both customary and polite for royals to see the guests off when they left after social events. Plus, it usually went by quickly.  
  
_Usually_ being the key word.  
  
Alma glanced around. There were carriages being loaded, with the guests who had remained overnight preparing to head off back to their homes. Not too far off, Tricia could be seen saying farewell to a prominent nobleman and his wife who Alma recognized as being from the border close to Lyons.  
  
But, Alma didn’t see Sheril.  
  
Quietly, Alma’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t interacted with his stepfather much the previous night after that moment where Alma had escaped out onto the balcony. There had been so much tension between them, and regardless of if Sheril actually _had_ intended to be helpful, Alma found himself becoming even more avoidant than usual. Perhaps Alma was being too sensitive; he could have been worn out from all that had been happening, and was only needing time to adjust to all the changes that had been taking place.  
  
Either way, Alma couldn’t help it. Something about the way Sheril had seemed the previous day had just been too _unsettling_ for Alma.  
  
Alma’s fingers twitched. He hadn’t practiced his archery much the past few days, primarily because he had needed to focus so intently on his exorcist training with Klaud. But now he was craving the activity more than ever, and Alma was hopeful he would be able to sneak away soon. If anything would relax him, practicing his shooting would.  
  
“Hey, hey!”   
  
The greeting interrupted Alma’s thoughts, and he turned to see Lavi approaching him. As usual, Lavi wore a carefree smile – though Alma notice that there were bags beneath his eyes (or in this case, his one visible eye).   
  
Alma smiled back. “Didn’t sleep much?” He asked, partly out of playfulness and partly out of actual curiosity.   
  
“Absolutely not. I was too busy staying awake and having the time of my _life_ last night,” Lavi retorted, before adding boastfully, “If you couldn’t tell, I was pretty popular!”  
  
Alma laughed.   “And here you thought you needed a wingman,” He spoke. “I’m glad you had fun though!”  
  
Lavi grinned. “Absolutely. Though it would have been better had old panda let me actually sleep in.   He was up at the crack of dawn and thought it necessary to get my ass up too.”  
  
A look of curiosity passed over Alma, and he blinked. “Why?”  
  
“Eh,” Lavi said with a shrug. “Had me do some mediocre tasks, and wanted me to make sure I had my shit together before we leave.”  
  
“Oh,” Alma said, feeling a small tinge of disappointment. While Lavi had only been at the castle a few days, Alma had really grown to enjoy the other young man’s company, and found it rather pleasant to have someone else close to his age to talk to. “You and Bookman probably do need to get going…”  
  
Lavi seemed to notice the slightly disappointed trace in Alma’s voice, and smiled reassuringly. “No need to get _too_ depressed over me leaving – I’m sure will be back.”  
  
Alma nodded. He did feel a little embarrassed, as he realized it probably seemed odd for him to appear so affected by Lavi’s departure. “Yeah, you’re right,” Alma said, as he was able to give a small smile. “I guess I just really enjoy having a friend around who’s closer to me in age. It’s nice.”  
  
This caused Lavi to pause, and for a split second there was a look that could only be described as _blank_ on his face. Then, there was something else – but it came and passed so quickly that it was gone within a millisecond, and Alma figured he surely had imagined it.  
  
Lavi then grinned. “Nice to know I’ve made such a strong impression already.”  
  
Alma opened his mouth to speak, but his eye quickly caught sight of something: swift movement, and a familiar head of long dark hair.   
  
Sheril had finally made an appearance, and gone to where Tricia was. A smile rested on his lips, adoring despite its lack of warmth, and he brushed his hand against Tricia’s waist: a modest, yet deeply intimate touch.  
  
Unwillingly, Alma recalled the previous night where Sheril had gotten close enough to place a hand on his back. Alma felt a small shiver as he recalled the icy touch.  
  
Lavi noticed Alma’s discomfort. “You okay?”  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah,” He answered, although his response was rushed.  
  
A pensive glimmer flickered in Lavi’s eye, and he turned, easily enough spying who Alma had been looking at. Lavi’s focus immediately landed on Sheril. “What a cuddly guy,” Lavi murmured, though the sarcasm in his tone was evident. He looked back at Alma. “ _Almost_ as cuddly as Lvellier.”  
  
Despite his earlier discomfort, Alma found himself stifling a small snort of laughter. “Cuddly? _That’s_ the word you’re going with?” Alma questioned, thoroughly amused by the choice of word.  
  
“Yeah, _totally_ cuddly,” Lavi repeated. “You know, like a fuzzy animal. Except one that could probably claw your eyes out in an instant.”  
  
Alma shook his head, laughing. “I’ll never be able to use the word ever again.”  
  
Lavi grinned, looking just as amused by his own words as well. However, he looked back, and some of the brightness in his eye dimmed. “Speak of the devil.”  
  
Alma blinked, and glanced back to where Sheril and Tricia were. He could see they were speaking with none other than Lvellier. They appeared to be discussing something that must have gone beyond pleasantries, Alma realized, as he noticed their expressions were rather severe. His mother in particular looked almost distressed even.  
  
At one point, Lvellier glanced over in Alma and Lavi’s direction before returning back to his conversation. Sheril and Tricia both had glanced over as well, but only for a second before returning their attention to Lvellier.   
  
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Alma found himself asking, partly to himself and partly to Lavi.  
  
Lavi paused, then eyed Alma as he gave a rather blunt response. “Given the fact that they keep glancing over here, probably you,” He stated. “I wouldn’t worry, though. Kind of to be expected.”  
  
Instinctively, Alma found himself rubbing his arm – the one that had the innocence attached. Even beneath his sleeve he was oddly aware of its existence.  
  
Soon, Lavi spotted Bookman. The old man had been with Klaud discussing something a bit farther off, though he had turned to Lavi and locked his apprentice’s gaze. Lavi easily knew what the look meant.  
  
“That’s my cue to leave,” Lavi said, as he gave one last smile to Alma. “Like I said. I’m sure we’ll be back.”  
  
“Don’t be strangers,” Alma offered amiably.  
  
Lavi tipped his fingers in a mini salute, then headed off. He passed Klaud on the way, who had just finished whatever it was she was conversing to Bookman. The general didn’t give much more acknowledgement than a slight nod, but her eyes briefly remained on Lavi, before she shifted her focus over.  
  
Alma took notice of Klaud when he realized she was approaching him. “Hey,” Alma greeted, before taking note of how close it looked like the remaining guests had already cleared out. “Looks like things are finally starting to wrap up here.”  
  
“It does,” Klaud agreed, as Lau Shimin jumped over to Alma’s shoulder, somewhat playfully. It briefly distracted Alma, causing amusement to shine through his smile. Klaud, however, remained focused. “We should pick up your training when everything is taken care of here. We still have a lot to cover.”  
  
Alma petted Lau, as the monkey’s tail flipped about. Alma’s entertained expression melted into one of hesitancy though, as he took in Klaud’s words. He understood training was imperative, but he _had_ been somewhat hopeful for some kind of break. Between jumping into such intensive training immediately following synchronization, and the slight chaos of the Autumn Ball, Alma was _tired_.  
  
Klaud immediately picked up on Alma’s reservation, as she read the prince’s emotions with ease. “I know it’s a lot, but it needs to be done. It’ll do you better to get used to the level of work as well.”  
  
Exhaling, Alma nodded. Still, his eyes remained somewhat hopeful as he looked at Klaud. “Could it wait until a bit later today?” He attempted, hoping that perhaps he could negotiate a slightly later time. “Mother and I were going to go apple picking, and she usually tires so easily that we’ll probably go earlier.”  
  
Surprise graced Klaud. “Apple picking?” She asked, though she wasn’t displeased. It had just been sometime since she had seen the queen engage in such an activity.  
  
Alma laughed a little sheepishly. “Yeah…it’s probably sort of silly I’m looking forward to it so much, but she suggested it last night. We just haven’t done anything together in a while, so...”  
  
Klaud couldn’t disagree; she didn’t know if she could recall the last time she had seen Tricia spend any quality time with Alma. So often Tricia was seen with Sheril, or if she were with Alma the interaction seemed somewhat strained. But, it was a pleasant surprise to see that Tricia had been the one to initiate such an outing.  
  
Klaud gave a small smile. “Not silly at all,” She said. “We can have our session after then. Just make sure you’re prepared for it.”  
  
Alma nodded, as he smiled enthusiastically. “I will!”  
  


* * *

  
  
When the guests were finally all gone, Tricia was relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy any aspect of these social events, but it was draining and often took a lot of energy out of her. Already, Tricia could feel herself numb from wear, as though her body had been threaded through with needles, heavy and laced down tightly; but, Tricia still had some energy left, and was grateful for that. She knew she had promised to spend time with Alma that day, and wanted to ensure she would be able to do that much.  
  
It was not as though Tricia had done much else for her son as it was.  
  
Tiredly, Tricia sighed. She brought her slim fingers to her forehead as she rubbed it. Having been out for a bit already, she could feel the impact of the sun’s brightness: something that was as brutal as it was beautiful, and vicious as it was vibrant.  
  
Sheril, who was standing close to Tricia, took note of her weariness. He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder, his grasp ghostly yet noticeable. “You should go inside for a bit, Tricia. This sun is harsh for you.”  
  
Unable to disagree, Tricia nodded. She knew Sheril was right.   
  
As Sheril accompanied her inside, Tricia turned. She caught another glimpse of Alma, who had been with Klaud. This was reassuring; Tricia always felt at ease knowing that Alma was close to people such as Klaud.  
  
Inside, the air was several degrees cooler. The decrease in sunlight already seemed to be making an impact, and Tricia’s breathing felt less faint. She was still quite drained, but at least she knew that if she recovered for a short bit that she should be alright to go back outside again.  
  
“You should probably turn in for a while,” Sheril suggested. “Given the ball last night and all the preparations you had to assist with, you might have exerted yourself a bit too much.”  
  
Sheril’s words were more practical than they were concerned, but there was still a trickle of something more there – though it was faint, and hard to decipher.   
  
Tricia shook her head. “I believe I’ll be alright. I don’t feel as worn as I feared I might have,” She said, as she gave Sheril a gentle smile. “I did promise Alma I’d spend some time with him today. I know I haven’t done so enough.”  
  
Despite Tricia’s sweetness, Sheril’s eyes remained cool. “Ah, that’s right. Your little outing today,” He said. “Apple picking, was it? Such a quaint activity.”  
  
“We used to do it when Alma was younger,” Tricia said.   
  
_We._ Although not stated aloud, it was clear to who all Tricia was referring to: not only to herself and Alma, but to the late king as well. It tugged at her insides to even come so close as to bringing up Victor. All of these years later, and it still tugged. It still hurt.  
  
It was still painful.  
  
Sheril watched Tricia carefully, and the forlorn distance that seemed to cloud her eyes, as they hazed over with longing.   He knew that look all too well, as he had seen it in Tricia frequently.   It so often plagued and marred her face, which was otherwise so lovely, and yet the pain seemed to wilt her always.  
  
Tricia was weak, and weak things were malleable.   
  
Wordlessly, Sheril wrapped his arm around Tricia’s torso, and pulled her close. They had already arrived near where the private chambers were, a bit more secluded from everyone – otherwise, neither Sheril nor Tricia would have made such a bold move. But, they were isolated enough that Sheril was able to bring Tricia in as he wrapped another hand around her head, stroking her silk-soft hair.  
  
“You’re pushing yourself again,” Sheril spoke, his words a soft murmur as he brought his lips close to her ear. “You shouldn’t do that.”  
  
His voice was lulling, and velvety; it made Tricia yearn to melt into his grasp, and cave into the comfort that he had to offer. Without thinking, Tricia allowed herself to be enveloped in his embrace, as she leaned against him. Her face presed into his shoulder.  
  
“I know,” Tricia whispered. “I just…”  
  
“You’re doing what you can,” Sheril reassured. “But you need to take care of yourself. Surely your own son would understand that.”  
  
The air around them was quiet, as Tricia said nothing. With her silence, Sheril continued to speak. “Perhaps tomorrow or another day would be best – but for now, you shouldn’t strain yourself.”  
  
Tricia remained quiet. She understood Sheril’s logic, but it did little to ease the guilt that was weighing down on her. “I should at least tell Alma-“  
  
Sheril shook his head. “I can tell him,” Sheril confirmed, as he released Tricia from his hold. “I’ll return a bit later to check on you, alright?”  
  
Tricia pulled away, and her eyes raised to meet Sheril’s. She managed a small smile. “Alright.”  
  
Sheril smiled back, and planted a kiss on her forehead.   
  
Tricia left to her chambers after that, whereas Sheril remained for a few moments. The hallway had grown eerily silent with the queen’s departure, with no trace of any servants or activity. Everything was still. Everything was calm.  
  
Sheril knew he wasn’t alone.  
  
He didn’t have to address the apparition-like presence, though; from around the corner, Road stepped out. In her arms, she was holding Lulu Bell.  
  
Sheril looked over at her, smiling. “Did you enjoy watching?”  
  
Road grinned. “It was entertaining. I almost believed you like she did,” Road stated in a honeyed tone. “I can’t believe how annoyingly weak-willed she is though. Must be a family thing.”  
  
There was a haughtiness to her voice, and Sheril instantly knew Road was referring to Alma as well. “It only will make it easier for us,” He reminded, before his eyes moved over to the black cat Road was holding. “You brought Lulu Bell like I asked I see. Good.”  
  
Lulu Bell meowed.  
  
“I have a specific task for you – it’ll require that special skill of yours,” Sheril said, addressing Lulu Bell.  
  
Road pouted. “When do _I_ get a special task? I’m going to rot if I don’t get to do something soon.”  
  
“Just be patient. I promise once there’s an opportunity for you to do so, you’ll be able to,” Sheril comforted, before returning his attention to Lulu Bell. “There’s someone I need you to fetch for me. Can you do that?”  
  
A _meow_ was given in response.  
  
Sheril grinned. “Excellent.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma walked along, glancing around the hallways. He had intended to speak to his mother earlier, but while conversing with Klaud the queen had gone somewhere – likely inside. Alma had paused a few times to ask some of the castle staff if they knew where the queen had gone, but no one seemed to certain. A few had indicated they had seen her with Sheril.  
  
Alma shouldn’t have been surprised. His stepfather _always_ seemed to be close to wherever his mother was.  
  
_‘He never seems to leave her for too long…’_ Alma thought, as he briefly reflected over the peculiar relationship. Even as a child, Alma had noticed the strange way that Sheril and Tricia had seemed to connect, and how Sheril had hardly ever been willing to let Tricia stray too far. It actually seemed suffocating, in a way; Alma couldn’t imagine having someone so _close_ all the time. Especially like Sheril.  
  
Contemplation simmered in Alma. Just what was it that his mother had even seen in his stepfather to begin with? Alma often wondered, though he realized it wasn’t really his place to question such things. _‘I guess if she’s happy it shouldn’t matter…’_  
  
As Alma continued, he slowed his pace. Coming his way, he could see Sheril. The man was alone, but Alma couldn’t help but feel slightly on edge with that detail in mind. Their interaction the day prior still burned freshly in Alma’s memories, making him wary and a bit skittish.  
  
At first, Sheril didn’t appear to notice Alma – something that was plausible. He tended to flip flop regarding whether he felt like recognizing Alma’s existence, and it seemed this time he might have been leaning toward an “invisible Alma” sort of day.   
  
Alma couldn’t say he would have been entirely opposed to this.  
  
But, Sheril spoke as soon as they were within close enough proximity of each other.  
  
“Hello, Alma,” Sheril greeted in false pleasantry.   
  
Alma’s large blue eyes flickered to Sheril, with a hesitant edge in them. Then, he looked away. “Hello…”  
  
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Sheril asked, not seemingly caring much for Alma’s lack of eagerness to speak. “You became rather scarce after running outside for a bit.”  
  
Alma almost flinched, uneasy at how Sheril at so smoothly pointed out the avoidant behavior. After being out on the balcony, Alma had been rather careful to avoid any interaction with Sheril, and more or less clung to people such as Klaud, Suman, and Lavi to get through the night.  
  
“There were a lot of people,” Alma answered. “I was trying to be polite, and at least talk to who I could.”  
  
It wasn’t a complete fib, but it was certainly a stretch.  
  
Sheril’s expression was dubious. “There’s no need to lie,” He bluntly commented, immediately calling out Alma’s false excuse. “I can understand you wouldn’t want to speak with me after our conversation yesterday.”  
  
Alma’s cheeks burned, as his face flushed in complete embarrassment. _‘Damn,’_ He silently cursed, not entirely sure how to recover from this sort of faux pas. Things were already awkward enough with Sheril, and now Alma had somehow made it even worse. “Sheril, I’m sorry-“ He attempted, rushing out an apology before he could forget to do even _that_ much.  
  
“Don’t worry – I won’t hold it against you,” Sheril brushed off casually. “Anyways, I came to inform you that your mother will have to refrain from this little _excursion_ you had planned. She’s far too exhausted, and needs to recover from the past few days still.”  
  
The change in topic completely threw Alma off. He had been readying once again to try to explain himself, feeling oddly _guilty_ for having avoided Sheril all night, but the sudden news about Tricia hit him, and Alma could feel disappointment brim within him.   
  
Alma averted his gaze. “Oh…”  
  
“Don’t sound so downtrodden. You should know that your mother can’t push herself extensively,” Sheril pointed out coolly. “Besides, given your unprecedented status as an exorcist, you should be using your time more efficiently. You clearly need it.”  
  
The words pricked like needles, and Alma turned, mouth slightly agape. He knew Sheril had a point, though; Alma did need more training. He couldn’t even _activate_ his innocence let alone use it.   
  
Alma wavered. “I swear I’m _trying_ …” He said, though Alma wasn’t sure who he was really trying to convey that to. Sheril? Himself? He didn’t know.  
  
Sheril smiled, though it was plastered on as though it were a mask: false and deceptive. The expression didn’t reach his eyes, which gleamed darkly. “I know you are,” Sheril spoke silkily. “You’re simply not trying hard enough.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed indignantly. “But I _am_ ,” He argued, feeling rather attacked in that moment.  
  
Sheril remained unimpressed, and raised an eyebrow. “A bit defensive today, are we?” He asked. “I’m only pointing out what needs to be addressed. How else do you ever expect to improve upon anything?”  
  
Alma sucked in a small breath, though he forced himself to keep quiet. He knew he _was_ getting defensive, which would only make any further discussion all the more challenging; and even if Alma did near to hear _some_ criticism, this was easily one of the worst times to hear it.  
  
When Alma remained quiet, Sheril added, “You shouldn’t sulk so intensely over this. If anything you should be thrilled to have a legitimate excuse to spend time with those other exorcists.”  
  
Alma looked up, but didn’t have time to speak; as soon as he had done so, Sheril had brushed passed him, and walked away briskly, leaving Alma alone.  
  
_“You’re simply not trying hard enough.”_  
  
Quickly, Alma rounded a corner and went outside.  
  


* * *

  
  
Suman had returned to the castle that afternoon. He had gotten up early, more so in an attempt to get away for a short time while possible. Given his position as an exorcist, Suman didn’t have a predictable schedule by any means; the restrictions placed on exorcists in terms of where they had to remain and report to also caused a decrease in their freedom, causing any leisurely time to be something of a sacred activity.  
  
That morning, one of those scarce moments had arrived, and Suman had taken advantage of it; he had gone to see his family.  
  
Not that Suman _never_ saw them. But, it seemed that the more time passed, the less frequent such visits became. He could tell by the loneliness that crept into his wife’s eyes, or by the way his daughter seemed to be getting just a little bit older every time he saw her. It was apparent that Suman was missing one too many moments with them, and it was troubling.  
  
Sometimes, Suman really wished he had never been dragged into exorcism.  
  
_‘But it helps,’_ He tried to remind himself. _‘It helps Jaime, and Anna.’_  
  
It was true – while being an exorcist had more than a few drawbacks, it wasn’t a _complete_ loss. Jaime was able to receive more medical attention, and the cost of any remedies was taken care of. That alone had lifted a hefty burden off their shoulders.  
  
Suman exhaled. If anything, at least there was that one substantial gain. He didn’t want his daughter to suffer.  
  
Suman walked on, seeking out Klaud. Upon returning he knew it was expected that he check in with the general so she at least knew of his location. It was always ideal that exorcists did that with each other, though Suman realized that he would need to be interacting with Alma more as well on that level. It was a bit odd, really, to be thinking of the prince as an exorcist – Suman still was entirely sure how that would work out, given the royal responsibilities Alma would still have.  
  
As Suman continued, a servant approached him. She was a young woman, with long blonde hair and blunt-cut bangs; her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her eyes were dark.  
  
Initially, Suman thought that perhaps the servant was only walking toward him, and going in the opposite direction. However, the servant stopped just before him, intercepting him completely.  
  
Suman frowned a bit, when he saw how the servant was staring at him. “Is there a problem?”  
  
The servant remained calm, as she spoke fluidly. “I was asked to fetch you. Please follow me.”  
  
Suman’s brow pinched together even more. “Who-“ He started to ask, but was cut off as the servant began walking.  
  
A bit frustrated, Suman followed. He caught up to the woman, and spoke. “I haven’t seen you before – are you new here?” Suman questioned, wondering if he might be able to learn anything from the odd servant.  
  
The servant didn’t turn, but she answered. “I am,” She responded simply. “It’s very nice here.”  
  
Suman’s eyes were pensive. “Do you know anything regarding what this is about?” He then asked, jumping back to trying to find out who was wanting to speak with him and why.  
  
“No. I merely do as I’m told.”  
  
The answer was less than satisfactory, but Suman doubted he could get more out of the woman.   He realized that he would just have to wait until they made it to their supposed destination. Suman would learn the cause of this then.  
  
Admittedly, Suman was a little anxious. He had no idea what this was regarding, and it wasn’t as though it would be someone like Klaud summoning him; really, only the nobles and royals could do such a thing. But Alma certainly wouldn’t have gone to such lengths; the boy was at times so much like a friendly puppy that he would just seek out Suman of his own accord.  
  
This left Tricia and Sheril. But what would _they_ have wanted to discuss? Unless, they wanted to speak to both Suman _and_ Klaud…  
  
Suman’s thoughts slowed to a halt, as they arrived to a room. It wasn’t a specifically designated space, and not one of the more commonly used meeting rooms.   
  
Unease tickled along the back of Suman’s spine. For whatever reason, he didn’t like this.  
  
The servant stepped aside, as she opened the door. “You may enter,” She advised, not bothering to give any further information.  
  
Suman eyed the servant suspiciously, but did as instructed.  
  
Once inside, Suman heard the door shut behind him. He turned, somewhat caught off guard. The servant was nowhere to be seen though.  
  
_‘The hell…?’_ Suman thought, as he looked around. He realized that there was actually no one else in the room yet, which made him wonder what was going on. Was he supposed to just wait around or something? It wasn’t clear to Suman, and if there was anything that drove him insane it was always when there was a lack of clarity.   
  
A few moments passed, and eventually the door could be heard opening. Suman turned swiftly, and spotted Sheril.  
  
Suman’s guard immediately raised. What the hell did _Sheril_ want?  
  
Closing the door, Sheril smiled at Suman. “I apologize for the wait. I had to deal with someone a bit troubling.”  
  
Suman’s expression was hard, as his eyes remained on Sheril cautiously. “That’s fine,” He warily answered, hesitant to ask what it was Sheril had summoned him for.  
  
Sheril’s smile remained, calm and strangely pleasant. Something lingered at the edge though – something that made Suman’s nerves twitch and flare in aggravation. “You must be wondering why I asked to meet you in such a way.”  
  
“It was a bit unexpected,” Suman spoke stiffly. He quickly tried to push the conversation along. “What is it you needed?”  
  
A spark flashed in Sheril’s eyes. “How long have you been here now, Suman?” He questioned, completely derailing what a direct answer. “Almost seven years now? A good amount, and enough to prove adequate loyalty many would argue.”  
  
Suman said nothing, but kept his gaze on Sheril. He had no idea what road this interaction would take, but as of now the exorcist felt the need to keep his guard up.  
  
“And while having a family – I can’t imagine the amount of strain that must cause you all,” Sheril pointed out as he went on. “How are they, even? Alma always talks about your daughter. Jaime, is it?”  
  
Suman’s gaze darkened. “I don’t exactly see why you felt a need to call me in to discuss my family,” He spoke, an edge of ice to his words. “Especially when you’ve frankly never cared much to ask before.”  
  
“A rude error on my behalf,” Sheril expressed dismissively. “I merely wanted to point out I thought it was admirable. Being a family man myself I can understand the need to protect one’s family.”  
  
Suman nearly scoffed. Family man? Sheril hovered around the queen at best, and didn’t even give the prince the time of day. Suman wasn’t blind; he had seen the way Sheril acted around Alma, and how the noble only seemed to be invested in Queen Tricia.  
  
Curiously, Sheril’s eyes found Suman’s. There was a glimmer in them: dark, and foreboding, like that of a serpent before it were about to devour a rat. “I just wonder how far you’d go to protect them. I heard from Alma that you’d do _anything_ for them, and I’ve been curious as to whether he’s been correct in such an observation.”  
  
A red flag seemed to wave in Suman’s mind, as the words were much too ominous to ignore. Tensing, Suman’s eyes pierced Sheril’s. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
“It means I have a very specific assignment for you,” Sheril spoke, his words chillingly collected. His eyes seemed to darken even more, as his expression grew more severe. “And to be blunt, if you don’t complete it successfully, the results may be….unpleasant, to say in the least.”  
  
Anger flared within Suman. “So you’re threatening my _family_?”   
  
“Threat is such a strong word. Think of it as more of a warning,” Sheril corrected. “You see, I can’t guarantee that your wife and daughter would be safe if this task I have for you isn’t completed. Not something I like myself, but unfortunately a necessary precaution I must take to ensure you actually see it through.”  
  
Suman gritted his teeth. Rage was boiling within him, and he was _appalled_. Suman had never liked Sheril to begin with, but now a deep loathing was quickly filling within Suman, making him seethe.   
  
“And what _exactly_ is going to prevent me from reporting this to the general, or even the queen herself?” Suman asked lowly.  
  
Sheril smiled. “Simple. You,” He responded. “Unless you _want_ to risk viewing this as a bluff. I’d hate to see the look on your wife and daughter’s faces though when they learned that you’ve betrayed them.”  
  
Suman faltered, fists clenched. He cursed inwardly, as he _knew_ that he had been backed into a corner. Yes, he could have gone to report this _revolting_ interaction to someone, but at what cost? Sheril was a noble, and had that advantage over Suman. The man clearly was not above pulling strings either, and the icy realization that Suman _would_ risk his family’s safety was beginning to sink in, heavy and suffocating.  
  
Suman thought of his wife, and his daughter. _‘Not them.’_  
  
Fists balled tightly, Suman almost neglected to notice how closely Sheril had approached him, where the noble was able to whisper to him frigidly. “Your word against mine will be nothing, and given the stakes I trust you will see this task through to the end. Do you understand me?”  
  
Shakily, Suman exhaled. It was taking all of his willpower not to turn on Sheril right there and attack the man, and only the thought of his wife and daughter were enough to assist with such.  
  
Sheril pulled back, but Suman refused to meet his gaze. “What is it you want me to do?” Suman finally asked, words so cold that they nearly burned.  
  
Sheril eyed Suman. “Prince Alma hasn’t yet been able to activate his innocence yet, but when he does I have reason to believe it’ll be a substantial issue. That boy won’t know what he’s doing, let alone be able to control it,” He explained calmly. “He’s become a threat, and needs to be dealt with immediately.”  
  
Suman was shocked, completely taken aback by Sheril’s unprecedented mentioning of Alma and the way he referred to the prince as a threat. Did Sheril not know _anything_ about Alma? The prince was the _last_ person to be threatening to anyone, and was more considerate and conscientious than most people. Even with innocence, Suman couldn’t grasp Sheril’s line of thinking; it felt twisted and skewed, and made Suman’s stomach knot up.  
  
The exorcist scowled as these thoughts ran through him, and tried to ignore the nausea he was feeling. Darkly, Suman looked at Sheril. “And how would you have me _deal_ with him?” He asked, completely disgusted by the way in which the instructions had already been worded.  
  
Sheril was quiet at first. All false pretenses had fallen from his face, and the plastered pleasantry Sheril so often masqueraded in was nowhere to be seen. His gaze was ensnaring, and one that casted chills down the spines of anyone who would be so bold as to meet those horrible eyes – those horrible eyes, which had all but captured Suman, freezing him into place like that of a gorgon.  
  
Sheril walked up to Suman, so they were directly facing one another. Never once did either of them look away.  
  
“I want you to take Alma into the forest, beyond the seal marks that keep the akuma out,” Sheril instructed, his words terribly calm. “Take him as far as you can where no one will find you, and where no one will hear you.”  
  
A wretched, sinking sensation befell Suman. He took a breath, unsteady and with the smallest hint of a tremor. “And what do you want me to do then?”  
  
Sheril answered, without a beat. “Then, I want you to kill him.”  
  


* * *

  
  
The carriage moved along steadily, as Lavi languidly sat back with his leg crossed over. A small, pensive frown painted his face as he looked out toward the window. He did this, although the curtain was still drawn.  
  
From the opposite side of the carriage, Bookman stared. “You look troubled,” He noted. “Which means your expression is far too readable.”  
  
Lavi shrugged. “It’s just us in here,” He spoke, nonchalantly brushing off the criticism.   
  
“Hmph,” Bookman huffed, as he folded his arms. “Carelessness is unacceptable – you know that.”  
  
It was true; even Lavi couldn’t deny that such carelessness _was_ a risk. Being a Bookman required immense control of things – including will and emotions. There was no room for error, and even the smallest slipup could be fatal.   
  
Lavi said nothing further on the topic, and still was gazing at the curtains thoughtfully. “So,” He started, “I managed to read through those documents from earlier.”  
  
Bookman’s eyes flickered upward, though his facial features were carefully controlled, and a mask of neutrality. “And?”  
  
“King Victor was killed in a hunting accident. That’s the official story,” Lavi spoke, words careful and his volume contained. His eye moved over to look at Bookman. “Except those were his medical records, weren’t they?”  
  
Quietly, Bookman scoffed. “Hunting accident. A solid cover up, I suppose.”  
  
Lavi frowned. “How many people know?”  
  
“Hardly any,” Bookman responded. “I suspect those who were more closely involved with the incident felt it would create too much of a disturbance if the people learned the truth.”  
  
Lavi crossed his arms, gaze not leaving Bookman’s. “Foul play?”  
  
“Likely.”  
  
Frown deepening, Lavi looked back toward the window. “Man…does the prince even know?”  
  
“No, so don’t run your mouth regarding this,” Bookman said. “We might be allied with the council, but our recording of history comes before anything. That means we remain neutral.”  
  
Lavi didn’t look away from the window. However, he responded. “Shouldn’t we have stayed longer? Given all that’s happened.”  
  
“Had we stayed any longer, we would have drawn attention to ourselves,” Bookman spoke. He sighed. “We will return when the time comes.”  
  
Lavi nodded, expression still distant.   
  
“Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People asked for angst, and let me just say //it is on the way//.
> 
> This is definitely the last calm chapter before everything essentially goes to hell, as you’ve already figured by now. Lots of conspiracies are starting to surface (cue Lavi, who /will/ be returning later on in the story - though we unfortunately won’t see him for a bit), mostly regarding the nature of how Alma’s father died (pffff like it really would have been a hunting accident).
> 
> Klaud //might// also know more than she’s letting on about. I can’t say too much even in the notes regarding this, but she and Bookman have an interesting sort of relationship. Not a close one I’d say, and I can’t even say they quite trust each other. More will likely trickle out over time regarding that.
> 
> Oh, but Alma. God, I feel for him, if only because he is incredibly unsuspecting of everything going on. He really has been kept in the dark about a lot of things, and writing him in the early part of this AU almost reminds me of how he is in canon: just very ignorant of how dark and grim things are, despite not entirely being content himself. (I guess in a way, it sort of reminds me of how in canon he was in the labs, just trying to be positive and upbeat, and never really understanding what was happening until it was thrown in his face?) But, he keeps trying, which I give him credit for, and he’s going to have a rough road ahead come the next few chapters (like I said - there’s definitely angst on the way).
> 
> And Sheril...ah, he’s a sleaze. Always a sleaze, and I remembered how much I can’t stand him when I was editing this. He’s so terrible with how he manipulates Tricia (I love her, but wish she would ignore him? It’s devastating to think about that kind of manipulation in a relationship, but for anyone who’s experienced such or witnessed it they know you can’t break away and change overnight with that pattern). And now, Sheril is just...very much pulling out the stops. In the last chapter, a lot of the interaction he had with Alma was essentially Sheril testing to see how malleable Alma might be, and if he would be easy to control like Tricia. Sheril has been very deliberate in trying to beat down Alma, because frankly if Alma does start biting back then it will /really/ make it harder for Sheril to pull the strings later on. And Sheril doesn’t want that.
> 
> Which, leads us to Suman. People have asked about who the “huntsman” in this AU (because ahaha the Snow White parallels are FINALLY kicking in) would be, and honestly, what better person than Suman? In canon, he is the one to turn on the Order, and I thought it would just make sense in this AU. As Sheril pointed out (and Alma, who basically said the same thing in the last chapter), Suman would do anything for his family, and that’s getting exploited. (It’s like that old question of what do you do if two people are tied to train tracks - a family member, and a close friend - and you have to pick who dies. Who do you choose? Suman basically got put into that position.)
> 
> So, that leaves us lined up for next chapter. Which I should be getting out soon - I’ve got the next five chapters written, so at this rate updates should be continuing smoothly.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and have a lovely week!


	9. The Hunter and the Stag

_“Then, I want you to kill him.”_  
  
Suman stared, utterly horrified. The whole room was deathly silent; even the slightest breath was magnified. Suman dared not move, and neither did Sheril.  
  
_‘No,’_ Suman thought. No, Suman must have heard wrong – there was no possible way that he had heard Sheril’s command correctly. There was no possible way that Sheril had actually ordered Suman to _kill_ someone.  
  
There was no possible way that Sheril had ordered Suman to kill Alma. There was no…  
  
_‘No,_ ’ Suman silently repeated to himself. Sheril couldn’t have just ordered him to kill Alma. It was an error. Faulty hearing. Whatever Suman could pin it on – it had to have been a mistake.  
  
Except Sheril was looking at Suman – expectantly, and unflinching. His eyes were horribly petrifying.  
  
Finally, Suman managed to break the silence, completely stunned still. “W- _What_?” The exorcist managed to get out, though even that much was strained.  
  
Sheril watched carefully, as the shock loomed on Suman’s face. “I said I want you to _kill_ him,” Sheril confirmed.  His voice sounded like ice, cold and sharp, against Suman’s ears as he spoke. “I don’t imagine it’ll be all that difficult a task considering how experienced you are in using your anti-akuma weapon, whereas Alma can’t yet seem to use his. It’ll be a quick job at best.”  
  
Suman was barely able to compose himself enough to speak, though he still floundered with his words. “But…but this is _treason_!” Suman argued, as his shock began to dissolve into outrage. “You can’t expect me to actually-“  
  
Abruptly, Suman stopped speaking. He couldn’t explain it, but it was as though some invisible force had locked him into place, freezing every muscle and every tendon. In a sense, it was almost as though a series of needles were piercing him, stringing him into place like some little puppet.  
  
Panic coursed throughout Suman _‘I-I can’t move…!’_  
  
Sheril walked up to Suman, his eyes never once leaving the exorcist’s. His mouth was a thin line, and his face looked ashen – more so than normal, and as though it were sculpted from stone. “Don’t fight me on this, Suman,” Sheril advised. “Besides, who do you care about more – your family, or some royal that you aren’t even related to?”  
  
Suman wanted to speak. He _tried_ to. If anything, he needed to know why and to _understand_ why – but just as before, the words somehow remained lodged in his throat, as his body continued to remain frozen in place. _‘I can’t move…’_  
  
Sheril continued to speak, as a warning edge remained in his voice. “I don’t have patience for failure. See that you complete this immediately,” Sheril instructed lowly. “When you’ve killed him, return to me and bring the innocence with you. I don’t care how you get it – cut off his arm, if you must. But bring it and any evidence that you’ve completed your task back _here_.”  
  
The words sank in, acidic and scorching. Suman could feel himself reeling.  
  
Then, he could move again.  
  
Suman staggered, not realizing how confined he had actually been – or what had even been confining him for that matter. He looked around, completely agitated and wild with paranoia.  
  
However, it was only Suman and Sheril present, and nothing more.  
  
Sheril tilted his head to the side, as he continued to eye Suman. “Oh, and one more thing,” He started to say, as he came close to Suman. “If you even _attempt_ to divulge this with anyone, I will personally ensure that you will be the one to watch your family suffer. Whether you’re foolish enough to test that, I’ll leave to you.”  
  
The noble stepped back, and smiled – a cold, horrible smile. “Don’t disappoint me.”  
  
With that, Sheril left Suman – alone, and at a loss for what to do.  
  


* * *

  
  
Outside, the air was clear and crisp. Autumn lingered about, which was visible in the distinctive blueness of the sky and the deep richness of the leaves. Many of them, while still green, had begun to color along the stems and edges; it was faint, but red and gold tones were gradually beginning to show, signifying the passing of time.  
  
A breeze brushed by. Alma could feel it against his skin like a gentle kiss that was sweet and light; it felt comforting.  
  
_‘It’s really nice out today,’_ Alma thought, as he looked up above. He was currently sitting under one of the apple trees; there were a few of them back near where it turned into the gardens on the castle grounds. It was a scenic area, with a fair amount of the flowers still in bloom for the time being.  
  
Alma leaned back against the tree, and peered up through the leaves. Speckles of sunlight fell through the branches, like broken bits of gold. It offered a small tinge of warmth in comparison to the coolness the breeze had brought – a soothing combination.  
  
Sighing, Alma sat a bit more upright against the tree trunk, and glanced around. It _was_ a really beautiful day, and it was a bit of a disappointment that his mother wouldn’t get to enjoy it. Actually, Alma was rather disappointed in general; he knew it wasn’t Tricia’s fault that she didn’t have the greatest health, but it seemed that with each passing year he had somehow become a little more invisible. Alma wasn’t sure how or when it had started; maybe it had been going on for his whole life, and Alma simply had never noticed it before. But sometimes he just felt….  
  
What would a good word be to describe it even? Alma wasn’t sure, and saying he felt nonexistent seemed a bit dramatic. However, he supposed it was true to an extent.   He _did_ feel nonexistent at times, or at the very least insignificant.  
  
It didn’t help that he seemed to be doing a lousy job at everything too.  
  
Alma pulled up his sleeve, and observed the silver bracer on his arm. As frustrating as Sheril could be to interact with, Alma begrudgingly had to admit that his stepfather had made a valid point; Alma should have been more productive, and sitting around and doing nothing wasn’t a very efficient use of time at all.  
  
_‘Ugh. I just needed a break though,’_ Alma rationalized, knowing he had gotten rather burnt out from the past few days. He rested back against the tree, and closed his eyes. _‘I’m just going to close my eyes, and stay under this tree for a few more minutes…’_  
  
As Alma did this, he remained awake. However, he could feel himself calm as he listened to the gentle whisper of air that swayed about, and the light rustling of leaves. Not too far off, he could hear a few birds chirping as well, sweet and melodious.  
  
Then, Alma felt something to his left.  
  
He wasn’t certain as to how to explain it; it was a subtle sensation, slightly warm, and tingling. Alma initially thought perhaps his arm had fallen asleep – but, he still had feeling in it, and it wasn’t _quite_ the same experience.  
  
Alma blinked his eyes open, now distracted by the sensation. As soon as he looked over his eyes widened.  
  
_‘I-Is it activating!?’_ Alma wondered, when he saw the bracer on his left forearm was faintly glowing. It _had_ to be activating, right? He didn’t know what else it could have been, and while Alma wasn’t sure as to what had triggered it, he felt a sudden thrill of shock and excitement surge throughout him.  
  
“Come on, come on!” Alma urged quietly, as he sat more upright. He watched intently, while also trying to remember to feel for anything like Klaud had originally advised. “Come on, _activate_ -“  
  
The light flickered, and faded.  
  
Alma stared, as he held onto his left wrist. A second passed, and nothing happened.  
  
Nevertheless, a bright, excitable grin broke out across Alma’s face. “It did something! It _actually did something!_ ” He exclaimed, not even caring that he was speaking to absolutely no one but himself.  
  
Alma was just _relieved_ in that moment; while the innocence had hardly done much, it had still been substantially more than any progress Alma had been able to make with it in the past few days. He still didn’t understand how it worked, or what may have caused the odd reaction from the innocence – maybe being outside had helped him with his focus or something. Clearing the mind had been something Klaud had tried to reiterate, hadn’t it? Alma didn’t know; it could have been anything, but it had to have meant _something,_ right? If anything, it had been reassuring, and Alma couldn’t help but feel his eagerness rekindled at trying to activate it.  
  
Standing, Alma quickly went to head back inside. He wanted to find Klaud and tell her what had happened. Optimistically, Alma wondered if maybe their training session would be more successful than the past few had been.  
  
Alma smiled to himself. The day had been a little off and started off sort of rough, but maybe things would look up for the rest of it.  
  
“What are you so _smiley_ about?”  
  
Alma stopped walking. He had just been getting read to head inside, when he turned to see Road. She was standing beside one of the pillars, eying Alma with large, doll-like eyes; like two gems, they glittered with a look that could easily be described as _mischievous_.  
  
“Oh – hi, Road,” Alma greeted.  
  
Road tilted her head to the side, and her gaze remained questioning. “So? What were you smiling about?” She pressed, as she smiled. “I could hear you yelling about something from all the way over here.”  
  
A blush rose to Alma’s face. “Ah, yeah…that probably seemed a little weird,” He spoke, realizing that anyone who heard him likely would be confused about what had made Alma so excitable. He looked back at Road, and smiled sheepishly. “My innocence reacted to something, and I guess I got a little excited. I’m hoping this means I can actually activate it soon.”  
  
Intrigue flickered in Road’s eyes. “How interesting,” She commented. “If you can learn how to activate it, I’d _love_ to see what it is.”  
  
_If._ Alma hadn’t missed the distinct phrasing, but he tried to ignore it. He had to remind himself that Road was younger, and probably meant nothing ill by it.   So, he gave her the benefit of the doubt.  
  
Road noticed the hesitancy, and her smile deepened. She didn’t comment on the innocence further though, and instead changed the topic. “I have something for you.”  
  
This caused Alma to look at her, somewhat bewildered. Road had already pulled out something by this point, before she tossed it to Alma.  
  
Alma just barely managed to catch the item. Fortunately, it had been small, but it felt fragile in his grasp. When he looked down, Alma was slightly surprised; it was a small, oval-shaped mirror. It wasn’t really a compact as it didn’t have a covering, but it was approximately the same side with a thin, pewter frame that had a violet hue to it.  
  
Alma blinked, and looked at Road in confusion. “A…mirror?”  
  
“Do you not like it?” Road asked in feigned hurt. “And here I just wanted to give you something…”  
  
Alma shook his head, not wanting Road to think he was being rude. “No, not at all! It’s really beautiful,” Alma said, before giving an appreciative smile.   “Thank you – I really like it a lot.”  
  
Road smiled. “Don’t lose it,” She teasingly warned, voice light. “It’s _really_ special.”  
  
Making a move to leave, Road spoke. “Have fun with you’re training – I’m sure it’ll be super exciting.”  
  
The younger girl left after that, leaving Alma alone and beneath the castle’s portico. He glanced back down at the mirror, staring at it. It _was_ really a lovely piece; Alma was honestly surprised that Road would have given it to him. From their first interaction, he hadn’t been able to really gage how she felt toward him, and in so many ways Road resembled Sheril. The gift had definitely been a surprise if anything.  
  
Alma pocketed the mirror. He would need to take it back to his room to ensure that nothing happened to it – since it had been given as a gift from someone on Sheril’s side of the family, the last thing Alma would want to do was to accidentally damage it and offend anyone.  
  
_‘Better do that so I can find Klaud,’_ Alma thought, as he went inside.  
  
While going through the corridors, Alma’s eyes occasionally wandered about. It seemed oddly quiet where he was, though he knew most of the servants were probably still assisting with the cleanup and re-organizing after having had the Autumn Ball the previous night. It still seemed a bit odd though, and was almost eerie…  
  
Someone entered into the corridor, and Alma jumped. But he quickly calmed himself, and laughed softly when he saw who it was. “Ah, sorry, Suman! It was so quiet in this corridor that I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”  
  
Suman looked at Alma, though he didn’t smile. “It’s fine,” He spoke, words sounding a bit stiff.  
  
“Oh! Have you seen Klaud?” Alma asked, suddenly remembering _why_ he had come inside in the first place.  
  
Suman seemed to waver, but before he could attempt a response Alma went on in his budding excitement. “I really wanted to find her – I was outside, and you’re not going to believe this, but my innocence actually did something! Er, not like it activated, but it did light up! So that has to be good right?” Alma gushed eagerly. “I’m really hoping that maybe I’ll be able to activate it when I train with her today!”  
  
As Alma chattered along enthusiastically, Suman’s eyes happened to look just beyond Alma.  
  
There, standing a bit farther back and near one of the hallway intersections was the castle servant Suman had been with earlier: the same woman with long blonde hair, and dark eyes.  
  
Suman’s muscles went rigid, as his focus locked on the woman. By this point, Alma’s chattering had faded, as Suman’s attention was completely disrupted. His insides knotted, and pulled.  
  
Alma blinked, coming to a stop with his prattling when he noticed the distracted look in Suman’s eyes.  
  
Alma turned around, in an attempt to see what may have caught Suman’s attention. However, when Alma looked, he saw the hallway was empty. “Hey, is everything okay?” Alma asked in innocent curiosity, as he turned back to Suman.  
  
This seemed to bring Suman back from wherever he had been mentally. “Yes,” He responded. With hesitation, Suman added, “Klaud got unexpectedly preoccupied with something. I’ll be training you instead.”  
  
“Oh, well that’ll be fun! We haven’t gotten to train together yet,” Alma replied good-naturedly. “I just need to drop something off in my room-“  
  
Suman’s eyes flashed. “No,” He said, sounding far more urgent than normal.  
  
Alma paused, and looked at Suman in confusion.  
  
Suman realized his error, and tried to elaborate. “With how we’re going to train…it’s really best to do it earlier. So leaving now would be ideal,” He explained somewhat gruffly. “We won’t be training on the castle grounds.”  
  
“Really? Where are we going?” Alma inquired, sounding both surprised and intrigued. “I didn’t think exorcists trained off the castle grounds – you and Klaud always seem to be here.”  
  
Shallowly, Suman exhaled. “Just follow me,” He instructed, volume a notch lower.  
  
Alma’s expression wavered a bit as he heard Suman’s tone. It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Suman to be moody from time to time or a little on the grouchy side; that was how Suman had been for all the years Alma had known him. However, Alma couldn’t help but feel that something seemed… _different_.  
  
But, Alma followed Suman regardless. _‘Maybe he’s just tired after last night,’_ Alma thought.  
  
They walked in silence, exiting back outside and through the portico where Alma had seen Road earlier – though, the girl was nowhere in sight. In fact, no one was around.  
  
_‘Weird,’_ Alma thought, before shaking his head. It wasn’t as though it were a busy area of the castle anyways, so Alma likely was overthinking things.  
  
Alma looked at Suman as he trailed alongside him. Since they seemed as though they would be walking a bit, the prince made an effort to spark a conversation. “How’s Jaime been? I remember you mentioned last night you were going to try to see her this morning. Did you get a chance to?”  
  
Suman didn’t look at Alma, and instead kept his attention forward as they walked along, cutting through the grounds. “She’s fine,” He answered, without going into anymore detail.  
  
The lack of a response caused Alma to pause, as he was not sure what to say to say. “That’s good,” He said, feeling unusually awkward. “I’d meant to ask sooner, but it’s just been so chaotic-“  
  
“It’s _fine_ ,” Suman repeated, this time his rigidness snapping a bit. “It’s not your responsibility to check on her. So stop acting like it is.”  
  
Alma went silent, as he looked away uncomfortably. Suman had been snappish in the past, but never quite to _this_ level, and never when Alma would ask about Jaime. Where had this even _come_ from? Alma was honestly confused, but he also didn’t want to accidentally push anything.  
  
“I…I didn’t mean it like that, Suman…” He spoke, though his voice had significantly decreased in energy as he attempted to backtrack. “I’m sorry – I really wasn’t trying to be intrusive.”  
  
The way Alma’s tone plummeted seemed to have struck something within Suman, and he glanced over for the first time since they had started walking. He sighed, then looked forward again. “No…it’s alright,” Suman responded as he attempted to lessen the harshness in his voice. “I didn’t intend to snap at you – I just have a lot on my mind.”  
  
After an uneasy pause, Suman added, “Jaime really loves the book.”  
  
Alma managed a small smile hearing this. “Good! I’m glad to hear that,” He said, though Alma found it difficult to speak much after. Although Suman had indicated he wasn’t frustrated with Alma specifically over anything, the prince still felt slightly off-kilter, and the atmosphere was oddly strained.  
  
Because of this, their walk fell into silence.  
  
Alma glanced around, as he started to realize where they were going after a few minutes longer. “Aren’t we getting close to the seal marks?” Alma questioned. By now the two of them were arriving near the edge of the woods where the castle grounds would end. It was the location where the CROWs had used magic to create seal marks, helping to create a border to protect the kingdom from any possible threats – predominantly akuma.  
  
In the past, Alma had never been allowed to come out this far. He had always been told it wasn’t safe.  
  
Suman nodded. “We are. Where we’re going is into a part of the woods that’s just a bit beyond them,” Suman said. “It’ll be fine – it’s just a part of training.”  
  
Alma’s eyes were uncertain, but he nodded. _‘Maybe something about being out here will help me activate the innocence…’_ Alma thought, though he couldn’t help but feel strangely nervous. Perhaps it was because he had never been out so far before, but he was with Suman – so, surely it would be fine. _‘It’s not like I’m alone or anything…’_  
  
They walked a bit more, and entered into the woods. Alma could recall just where the seal marks had been placed; since they were designed for akuma, they didn’t have any affect on humans or animals. Alma had been told before where they were, but since he rarely came out this far he was struggling to recall the details of their precise location, as they were camouflaged into the earth.  
  
Suman continued walking. As he did, Alma found himself looking around. Since they were not incredibly far into forest, there were still speckles of sunlight managing to creep through the branches, keeping the area decently lit and easier to navigate. Having never been in this area before, Alma could not repress his interest as he continued to glance about with curious eyes.  
  
A few birds perched in a nest above had just distracted Alma, when Suman noticed that the prince had stopped walking. “This way,” Suman urged, voice hardening once again.  
  
“They’re so cute…” Alma said, more to himself as he gave the birds one last glance before catching up to Suman. “Do we have much farther to go?”  
  
Suman exhaled. “No. We should be there soon.”  
  
Alma nodded, though he continued to observe his surroundings whenever he had the chance, completely enthralled by the new change of environment. Growing up, he had often wondered what it was like in these parts of the woods, and now that he was getting the chance to see them Alma didn’t want to take it for granted.  
  
Finally, after some more walking, Suman stopped. “This is it.”  
  
Alma looked. There was nothing particularly unusual about the area they had come to, although the trees seemed to be larger and were covered in thick moss. The air smelled of wet soil, and it was cool.  
  
Suman’s eyes briefly moved over to Alma, then away. “We got here a few minutes earlier than expected. You can look around a bit if you want,” He offered, voice a little stiff. “Nothing that exciting though.”  
  
At first, Alma was surprised. But then he grinned, as he was quite pleased by the offer. “Really? I’ve never been out here before, so that’d be great!” He said, before adding with a smile, “I promise I won’t go far.”  
  
Suman didn’t say anything, but Alma went on. He hadn’t expected to have any time to look around himself; Suman had seemed to be in a rush to leave the castle, and Alma had figured they might have been pressed for time. It was a bit strange, but if they had made good time after all and if Suman was going to give Alma a chance to indulge in his intrigue, then Alma wouldn’t complain. He had no idea when he’d get another chance to look around in this part of the forest.  
  
As he promised, Alma didn’t go too far. He had just passed a few trees, looking about before he caught sight of something moving.  
  
Stilling, Alma lingered close to a large tree as he peered around it. Just a bit away, was a stag.  
  
Alma stared in awe. He had never seen a stag before. Once or twice on a rare occasion a doe might have wandered into the gardens, but that was such a rarity; Alma couldn’t help but be entranced as he watched the stag, as it walked along steadily.  
  
_‘Wow, it’s really beautiful…’_ Alma thought, as he continued to watch in fascination.  
  
There was a small snap of a leaf, and the stag looked up. It turned to face the direction that Alma was in, then bolted away into the trees.  
  
Alma watched as it disappeared, a bit disappointed that the stag hadn’t remained longer. “I wonder what scared it off…” He murmured aloud, knowing it couldn’t have been him. Alma had been so careful to remain still – _he_ certainly hadn’t been the one to make any sound.  
  
Exhaling, Alma turned.  
  
His heart nearly stopped.  
  
Suman was there, expression eerily stoic and eyes hard. He was standing close to Alma – an arm’s length, really.  
  
Alma knew this, because Suman had his arm outstretched. The one with his anti-akuma weapon.  
  
Alma felt frozen as he stood with his back to the tree. Suman was pointing the gauntlet-weapon at Alma, and one shot would have killed him _easily_. Alma’s thoughts started to race, as he struggled to process what was happening. “S-Suman, what are you…?”  
  
The words barely made it out, as Alma’s thoughts sped up even more. Why was Suman pointing his anti-akuma weapon at him like that? Surely it was some part of training, right? A really terrifying, messed-up part of training, but maybe some weird and twisted method that Alma didn’t know about?  
  
Suman was still. “Don’t move,” He instructed quietly. “It’ll be a lot easier if you let me do this quickly.”  
  
Alarm filled Alma. “Wait, _what_?” Alma stammered, not understanding what Suman talking about. Truthfully, he was beginning to grow scared, and just the way Suman was looking at him was _terrifying_. “Suman, if this is some kind of scare tactic training it isn’t _funny-_!”  
  
“It _isn’t_ ,” Suman forced out, as he readied his weapon. “So hold still so I can get this over with.”  
  
Panic. Alma was beginning to panic, as he strained to fathom that a weapon was being pointed directly at him. Alma struggled to breathe. Should he run? No, he didn’t need to run from _Suman_ – Alma had known Suman for years, and known his _family_ for years. Suman was an ally, and a friend. He was _Alma’s_ friend.  
  
But, Suman was the one holding an anti-akuma weapon, and Suman was prepared to aim at Alma any second now.  
  
Alma couldn’t move. He couldn’t run. He was backed against a damn _tree_ even. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice screamed at him to get away and to get away _fast._  
  
_‘But it’s Suman,’_ Another voice tried to argue. _‘Suman would never...’_  
  
Inside, Alma felt his ribs tremble. Denial and fear both swarmed within him, as he tried desperately to understand what was going on. But, Alma didn’t; he _didn’t_ understand. His eyes, wide and alarmed, felt unusually hot as he looked at Suman, and his gaze was pleading.  
  
“Suman…” Alma barely managed, voice wavering. “Suman, please don’t…”  
  
Suman’s jaw clenched as something in his eyes seemed to flash, cracking the stoic exterior that he had been yielding. His outstretched arm twitched, and he gritted his teeth.  
  
“Damn it!” Suman hissed, as he abruptly pulled back his weapon.    
  
Alma stared, still too shocked to move. Before he could think to do anything, Alma was grabbed by the arm as Suman yanked him away from the tree. It was a forceful motion that nearly caused the prince to stumble, and it was then that Alma realized his face was cold and wet with tears.  
  
“W-What’s going on?” Alma finally managed to ask, though his words were shaky. “Suman-“  
  
Suman stopped, and turned to Alma. Regret and frustration both brimmed in the man’s eyes, as he glanced around, then back at Alma. “You have to leave.”  
  
“What? _Why_?” Alma continued to question, growing more distressed by the moment. “Suman, you’re not making any sense!”  
  
Suman released a heavy breath, and looked as though he were struggling as to what to say. He also kept looking around, edgy and irritated.  
  
Finally, Suman looked back at Alma,. He had been trying to gather how to phrase his next set of words, and seemed as though he would be able to manage something. “I…I was instructed to bring you out here,” He spoke, voice low. He took another breath. “Sheril…gave me the order to kill you and bring back your innocence.”  
  
Alma’s thoughts screeched to a halt right there.  
  
_‘What…?’_ Alma thought, knowing it couldn’t have been right. He shook his head, as he tried to speak. “No…no, that…that has to be a mistake-“  
  
“It isn’t,” Suman argued, as he clenched his fists. Frustrated, he looked away. “He…damn, that _bastard_!”  
  
Alma could hear Suman, but he didn’t seem to be registering what the other exorcist was saying. _‘No,’_ Alma continued to tell himself. _‘No, no it’s not…’  
  
_ Alma made a move to head back. “We have to go back – it _has_ to be a mistake!”  
  
Suman caught Alma by both arms, preventing the prince from continuing. “Alma, you _can’t_!” Suman reiterated. “I’m not going to have your blood on my hands-“  
  
“But I haven’t _done_ anything!”  
  
“I know you haven’t, but damn it, you _can’t go back_!” Suman shouted, before he realized how much he was raising his voice. Heavily, he exhaled, as he tried to calm down, and his voice nearly cracked as he spoke. “Alma…Alma, he threatened Anna and Jaime if I didn’t kill you, and…”  
  
Suman trailed off, as Alma stared, wide-eyed and horrified. “Sheril…threatened your family…?” He asked, though the words were a distant echo in his ear. “Suman…”  
  
Suman managed to collect himself. “Alma, it’s not safe – if he at least _thinks_ your dead…”  
  
Alma’s mind was still reeling, and he swallowed.   “Where…where will I go though?”  
  
“I don’t know, but you _have_ to go,” Suman urged, before something in him snapped, causing the exorcist to nearly break. “Damn it, Alma, _just go_!”  
  
At that moment, a sharp, piercing alarm seemed to ring through Alma’s mind as Suman’s words broke through. Suddenly, the fog of confusion and wall of denial seemed to crumble and crash, as Alma’s whole body flared with a combination of fear and panic.  
  
In that moment, everything fell apart.  
  
Without sparing so much as another breath, Alma turned, and ran.  
  


* * *

  
  
Road hummed to herself. It was a light melody, delicate and reminiscent of something that might have been played in a music box.   She was currently lying on her back, stretched along an ornate, velvety sofa. Her legs were kicked upward in a rather unladylike-fashion, as she held up her pewter hand mirror.  
  
In it, she watched. And watched. And saw.  
  
She was still humming, and when she spoke, it was in a light, sing-song voice. “Sherrrril.”  
  
Sheril didn’t look up. He had been seated across from Road, and reading as Lulu Bell remained curled in his lap, purring and at peace. Sheril did not break his attention entirely away from what he was reading though, and spoke to Road in a pleasantly placid manner. “Yes, what is it?”  
  
Road swayed her legs, still kicking them upward. “He didn’t do ittttt,” She sang, as she put down the mirror, huffing. “Ugh, what a weakling. And here I thought I was going to get to watch something entertaining.”  
  
A thin frown befell Sheril, as he finally looked over. “So Alma is still alive then?” He questioned coolly.  
  
Road clutched the mirror to her chest, and looked over at Sheril, grinning. “He is. Ran off into the woods like some scared little deer as soon as your makeshift huntsman let him.”  
  
“Hn. No matter – if he’s wandering there, it’ll only be a matter of time before something kills him,” Sheril spoke dismissively. “I don’t care how it happens, as long as he’s eliminated quickly.”  
  
A giggle bubbled from Road’s throat. “Oh, wow. You really hate him, don’t you?” She observed, voice laced heavily with intrigue. “Why is that? You don’t seem to harbor that kind of hatred for the queen.”  
  
Sheril looked over, and for a moment, his eyes flickered from onyx to gold. They darkened again quickly, and he smiled. “What’s there not to hate?” He asked calmly. “That boy has been an annoyance that I’ve had to deal with for ten years now, and he’s an accommodator. The quicker he’s gone, the better.”  
  
Eyes gleaming, Road smirked. She didn’t comment on Alma any further though, and instead posed another question. “What are you going to do when the exorcist comes back?”  
  
Sheril tapped his finger against his jaw, as he thought. He hummed quietly. “Let’s see what lie he tries to feed us. I’m curious as to what excuse he’ll attempt to give for not having the innocence when he returns,” Sheril spoke thoughtfully. He sighed. “We’ll handle him once he returns. Lulu Bell here has already done _such_ a good job of keeping him in line – I’m sure she’ll be able to help with that,” Sheril doted, as he stroked Lulu Bell.  
  
Road said nothing at first, then looked back into her hand mirror.  
  
“You’ll let me know if anything happens?” Sheril asked.  
  
“Oh, _of course_ ,” Road responded in a honeyed tone. As she glanced over at Sheril, her eyes gleamed, and they melted into bright gold. “That mirror I gave him is made from the same glass as this one – as long as he has it, I can track wherever he is.”  
  
“How clever you are,” Sheril complimented. “That’ll be beneficial – the last thing we want is for him to return here.”  
  
Road rolled over, changing her position so that she was lying on her stomach. “Sherilllll,” She whined. “If an akuma doesn’t kill him soon, can I play with him? I haven’t gotten to do anything fun in _ages_.”  
  
Sheril smiled. “Of course you can,” He assured sweetly. “Just wait a little bit longer, alright? If it seems he’s fairing better than we anticipated, you can have your fun then.”  
  
Road grinned. “Excellent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd here we are. The pain and angst begin. ;___; 
> 
> It was no mistake this all went down the day after the Autumn Ball though. Sheril is pretty damn sly in that he specifically timed this so it would happen when everyone is distracted: the servants are in cleanup/reorganize mode, and guests have been leaving all morning. Which means...there are going to be a lot of suspects when people realize Alma is missing, and it’s going to be much easier for Sheril to dodge getting this pinned on him. It’s also going to be less likely people notice Alma is missing immediately, because things will have been so chaotic. (Ugh, Sheril, stop being such a schemer and go away)
> 
> Overall, this chapter was definitely a rush to write, because the emotions are so intense here. Suman in particular is a struggle; he’s in the worst predicament ever, and as much as he cares about Alma it’s not unlikely he would have come close to actually going through with Sheril’s order for the sake of protecting his family. Although, I didn’t want him to give in not only to keep Alma alive (because pfff there would be no story then) but I also didn’t want Suman to go to that point of no return like in canon (give him some credit and redemption please?). 
> 
> Unfortunately, it’s only going to get rougher for Suman from here. Not only is he going to have to lie to Sheril (who, ahaha KNOWS already Suman failed), he’s going to have to figure out what to do regarding everyone else. It’s not so clear cut that he’s going to be able to tell people like Klaud what happened - and that’s going to cause serious issues later on.
> 
> Alma, though. Oh, Alma got it bad this chapter. He was already having a not-so-great-morning to begin with - though, there was /some/ activity with his innocence. There’s nothing really groundbreaking about what triggered it in this scene, as so much it was more Alma having had it for a few days and finally relaxing enough that he wasn’t overthinking it. Really, second-guessing himself has been a part of what’s held him back, so that’s a little insight there.
> 
> But...the scene with Suman. Honestly, I started to cry writing it? It was difficult, because I wasn’t sure how to convey the shock Alma would have felt. He’s known Suman since he was a kid, is friends with Suman’s family, and hell, has /defended/ Suman’s loyalty to Sheril. So imagine what a punch in the gut it was, and the level of denial that arose when Alma saw Suman seconds away from /killing/ him. He was just stunned, which is why he didn’t immediately run or fight back; Alma couldn’t do those things, because once he did that would mean he’d have to accept that what was happening was real, and he just /couldn’t face that./ He’s basically like the stag who runs away (which, if you’re a medieval nerd like me you know stags in imagery are typically stand-ins for kings/princes in metaphors and lore), and it’ll be interesting to see where he ends up.
> 
> Also, it’ll be interesting to see how that /mirror/ comes into play (this is based off Snow White - so I had to keep a mirror element somewhere XD). It’ll be playing a larger role later on for certain.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, hopefully with something comforting like ice cream. That’s what I had while writing it. 8DDD


	10. In the Woods

Run.  Alma had to  _run_.  
  
He didn’t even think – he only ran.  It was all Alma could do, despite the way his muscles burned and how his lungs screamed for air.  He could hardly see, though; the woods were so dark, and the trees had only grown denser the farther he had run.  Above him the branches were so thick and clustered that they nearly blocked out all traces of sunlight, making it difficult to decipher what time of day it was, or which direction Alma might have been going in.    
  
Not that it mattered.  Alma was running blindly at this point, not even thinking to look around his surroundings.  Everything blurred together, faded and distorted.  
  
Run.  He had to run.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, as he pushed himself to run faster.  Inside his head, he continued to hear Suman’s words as they scorched into his mind.    
  
_“Sheril…gave me the order to kill you and bring back your innocence.”_  
  
Faster.  Damn it, Alma needed to run  _faster._  
  
It was almost as though there was a pressure building up somewhere inside – somewhere that made Alma’s insides want to crumble and twist under the weight of everything.  However, Alma struggled to repress it, and to lock away those feelings.  More than anything, he just wanted to bury them, and to run so far that even they would never be able to find him.   
  
Except he couldn’t.  He was running, but Alma couldn’t ignore the confusion and pain and anger that had so rapidly caught him by the claws, clutching at him torturously.    
  
Just how long?  How long had this been  _planned_?  Had Sheril hated Alma so much that he saw a need to go to such a wretched extreme? Or was it only because Alma had synchronized?  No, the two of them had never gotten along – Alma wasn’t so stupid that he would ignore that detail.  Sheril had so often brushed Alma aside, and acted as though he were nothing more than some insignificant baggage.  But…to have Alma be  _killed_ …  
  
Just what had Alma done to warrant _that?_  
  
Alma’s whole body felt as though it were on fire.  Had he been in a more sound state of mind, perhaps he would have known to slow down, or at least give himself time to rest.  But rest wasn’t important enough – staying alive was.  Running was.  
  
In current state, Alma wasn’t able to think clearly – or see clearly for that matter.  He was running through one of the darker areas where the soil was more uneven and rocky.  Without any warning, Alma’s foot caught over a more prominent rock, and caused him to fall.  
  
Quickly, Alma tried to get up.  However, the exhaustion from pushing himself so hard began to crash down onto him, and he fell back down, tired and depleted.  His legs were still burning, and he felt like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.  His lungs hurt, and even breathing felt scalding.    
  
Alma grimaced, and tried once more to stand.  He was frustrated that he was still struggling, and when he tried to push himself up with the palms of his hand he immediately regretted it.  The left hand in particular seared, and when Alma checked it he saw it had gotten cut.  
  
Damn it, why did he have to be so  _weak_?  
  
Alma exhaled.  Not too far off, he saw a tree – one that was quite large, and had a decent-sized opening that at least one person could squeeze into.  
  
Alma tried again to move, this time having to push himself even harder.  It was extraneous, but he was able to manage; his balance was off, and his body ached, but Alma finally made it over, and crawled down into the opening.  It was large enough that he could sit under there with no problem, hiding him away from the rest of the world, and shielding him like a shell.  
  
Another shaky breath escaped Alma, as he brought his knees up to his chest.  
  
_“You have to leave.”_  
  
Alma bit his lip.   _‘Suman…Suman was going to….’_  
  
_“You_ can’t go back _!”  
_  
Suman had almost killed Alma.  He hadn’t, but he had almost done it.  Sheril had put him up to it, and Alma couldn’t return to the castle. He couldn’t return home.   _‘I…can’t go back…’  
  
“Damn it, Alma, _ just go _!”_  
  
Suddenly, it was as though all that Alma had been keeping in could no longer be contained.  Everything – Sheril, the innocence, Suman, his mother– all of it came crashing down onto Alma, like a tidal wave that was just  _suffocating_.  All of the insecurities and sadness Alma had tried so desperately hard to ignore were now pushed to the forefront of his mind.  
  
He couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
_‘I hate this…’_  Alma thought, for the first time in his life feeling alone.  Truly, and utterly alone.    
  
More than anything, Alma wanted it to stop.  He wanted the pain stop.   
  
But, Alma didn’t know how to do that.  He didn’t know how to make the pain stop.  And all he could do was bury his face into his knees, as he cried softly.  


* * *

  
  
A mistake.  God, it had all been a  _mistake_.  
  
Alma had run off so quickly that Suman had only been able to see him for a few brief seconds before the prince had vanished.  It had been difficult for Suman not to go after him, and for Suman to plant himself in the ground until he  _knew_  that Alma had gone far enough – far enough that even Suman couldn’t find him.  
  
Suman didn’t trust himself anymore.  He had come too close to killing Alma.  
  
It was sickening, and Suman hated himself for even having considered it.  
  
Swiftly, Suman turned.  He needed to head back, and leave the area; he had no idea what lengths Sheril would go through to see this through, and in the pit of his stomach the fear twisted up that he might have been being watched.  He felt like he  _was_  being watched.  
  
Breathe.  Suman had to remind himself to breathe.   _‘Go back,’_ He told himself,  _‘Go back and lie through your teeth.’_  
  
He closed his eyes, and Suman tried to compose himself.  But when he closed his eyes, he saw Alma’s – wide and afraid.  Suman had never seen the prince so afraid.  
  
_Shit._   What was Suman supposed to do?  The situation had escalated beyond what he knew he could handle: Alma was gone, and Sheril would be expecting Suman to return with confirmation of the prince’s death.  That, and-  
  
Suman froze.  Innocence.  Damn it, he had forgotten about the  _innocence._  
  
Suman took a breath.   _‘Figure it out.  Just come up with something,’_  He told himself – although, Suman doubted he could come up with a believable story.  The exorcist didn’t really have much of a choice, though.  It was either come up with something to appease Sheril for the time being, or…  
  
His family’s image flashed through his mind, quick, and like a delicate flash of light.  
  
Fists clenched, Suman gave one last look in the direction that Alma had run off in, before he turned away to return to the castle.  
  


* * *

  
When Suman arrived at the castle, it was dusk.  The sun was beginning to fall into the west, dipping down to make way for the oncoming arrival of night as the inky darkness began to spread out from the east.  The air brushed by, and it held a chill.  Several leaves cascaded onto the ground – mostly green, yet fading along the edges.  
  
Suman kept blank face – he had to.  It was unsettling that he was able to do so at all, really; the neutrality he wore slipped on, concealing his regret like a marbled mask.  Cool, and unmoving.  
  
Maybe Suman had cracked.  Maybe the guilt of what he had partaken in was already leaving its mark.  Suman didn’t want to question it.  He only wanted to tell his lie, and to get it over with.  Then, he would go from there.    
  
The castle was moving with a small amount of activity.  Many people were beginning to prepare for the day’s end, with some having retired even earlier given that the Autumn Ball had worn out so many – nobles and servants alike.  Suman was relieved by this, as he didn’t know how much of a capacity he would have to engage with others.  He felt too numb.  
  
However, Suman’s relief did not last long.  Only seconds after entering the castle  _she_  was there: the servant woman with long blonde hair, and dark eyes.  
  
Suman’s jaw tightened.    
  
The woman looked at Suman calmly, as she spoke in a satin-smooth voice, “Follow me.”  
  
A cold, icy look lingered in Suman’s eyes, but he did as instructed.  
  
They walked along in silence.  While the walk itself was not long, the seconds seemed to be dragging by at an agonizingly slow rate for Suman; the servant hadn’t said where she was taking him, but it was clear enough where they were going.    
  
As anticipated, they stopped outside of the same door Suman had been in earlier.  The woman did not speak, but opened it as she waited for Suman to go in.  
  
Suman glared at her, but did so.  
  
Once he was inside and the door was shut behind him, Suman could feel his heart pounding.  It had started out of nowhere, with the pulsation suddenly intensifying and his insides coiling.  Desperately, Suman attempted to keep his mask of neutrality in place.   _‘Lie, you coward.  Just lie, and leave.’_  
  
Sheril was already in the room.  He had been glancing out the window, but turned upon Suman’s arrival, and eyed him carefully.  “So?” He asked smoothly.  “How did it go?”  
  
Suman’s blood ran hot, and his muscles tensed.  His jaw was so tight he could hardly speak.  
  
Noticing the strenuous air about Suman, Sheril smiled.  It was cool though, and his eyes held a threatening gaze: like two blades, sharped and ready to pierce.    
  
Sheril walked over to Suman, stopping just in front of him.  Without any hesitation, he capture Suman’s gaze, and held it without remorse.  “I’ll word it this way,” He spoke, voice low.  “Did you kill Prince Alma, or did you not?  It shouldn’t be that difficult of an answer really.”  
  
Still tense, Suman faced Sheril.  His blue eyes were like two chips of ice, glacial and frigid.  “I killed him.”  
  
Sheril stared at Suman, and said nothing.  Then, after several moments, he spoke.  “Where is the innocence?”  
  
Internally, Suman felt his stomach drop, and his lungs struggled for air.  He managed to keep his expression just neutral enough though: blank, and stoic.  Only his eyes remained frosty, as they stared back into Sheril’s obsidian gaze.  
  
“The prince tried to activate his innocence, and in defense I shot at it,” Suman answered rigidly.  “It was destroyed.”  
  
Sheril eyed Suman curiously.  “Really?  That’s quite a turn of events,” He observed chillingly.    
  
Suman only responded with silence to this.  
  
Not breaking away his gaze, Sheril walked a bit closer to Suman – far too close for the exorcist’s liking.  However, Suman did not dare move, almost as though any twitch or tremor would result in a disastrous accident.  
  
Sheril’s eyes bore into Suman’s ominously.  “Frankly, I find such a story dubious.  But I’m feeling generous enough to give you the benefit of the doubt,” He spoke softly.  “I’ll have to take your word that Alma is dead, and that there is no possible way I will ever see his face again.”  
  
Suman remained quiet, but his eyes flashed as he glowered at Sheril.  
  
Sheril smiled.  “You should be grateful – you said so yourself that you acted in defense,” Sheril noted.  “Which means your conscience should be clear, and I shouldn’t have to worry about you ever discussing this with anyone.”  
  
With this said, Sheril took a step back.  “You may go.  But rest assured that if any word of this reaches ears outside of this room, I will personally see to it that my initial warning is carried out.  Do you understand?”  
  
Through clenched teeth, Suman forced out a response.  “Yes.”  
  
Sheril smiled politely.  “I bid you a good evening then.”  
  
The door could be heard opening, and Suman turned, swift to take his leave.  He walked briskly, determined to get as far from Sheril as possible.  Once he had exited the room, everything suddenly felt as though it were weighing down onto Suman, crushing and overwhelming.  His heart was racing, and he was sweating; his nerves were riled, and he was so on edge that he felt as though he might  _snap_ -  
  
The familiar sound of heels clicking disrupted Suman’s thoughts, and he looked up just in time to see Klaud walking from the opposite end of the corridor, with Lau Shimin.  
  
“Suman,” Klaud addressed, as she approached the other exorcist.  “Have you seen Alma?  I’ve been trying to find him, but no one seems to know where he is.”  
  
Suman stiffened.  His skin felt clammy, and his pulse thudded in his ears.  Inside, a voice urged him to tell Klaud.   _‘Tell her,’_  It shouted,  _‘Damn it, tell her what happened!’_  
  
Suman made a move to answer, but stopped.  From one of the corridor intersections, he thought he saw a flash of pale, golden hair.  
  
Immediately, the words were lost to Suman, and his exhaled shakily.  “No….I haven’t seen him.”  
  
Pensively, Klaud eyed Suman.  “Is everything alright?” She asked, her tone bearing an edge of wariness.    
  
“It’s fine,” Suman forced out gruffly.  “It’s…been a long day, is all.”  
  
Klaud looked hesitant, but nodded.  “Well, if you see Alma, let him know I’ve been trying to find him.  We were supposed to have done a training session, and it’s not like him to skip on these things.”  
  
Suman was still, but managed a small nod.  Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt another pair of eyes on him.    
  
“I…think I need to retire early tonight,” Suman spoke, somewhat quickly.    
  
A small frown appeared on Klaud’s face, as her gem-hued eyes watched Suman carefully.  “Alright,” She spoke evenly.    
  
Suman did not even manage a goodnight, as he took off quickly after that.   Klaud turned, and watched as he disappeared around the corner.  
  
Suddenly, Lau Shimin began chattering in agitation, causing Klaud to look at him curiously.  “Lau?” She asked, a bit concerned by the sudden shift in the little monkey’s behavior.    
  
Lau continued to chatter though, with his gaze focused on something down the hall.  Frown deepening, Klaud started over in the direction, not stopping until she reached the area Lau had been focusing on: an empty room, where the door was slightly ajar.  
  
Klaud eyed the door cautiously, then pushed it open.    
  
Inside, there was no one.  
  
Klaud turned to the monkey.  “There’s nothing here, Lau,” She reassured softly.  “Let’s go.”  
  
Lau, although having quieted, did not appear convinced, and his tail twitched nervously.  
  
Klaud shut the door, before walking away.    
  
Inside the room, a pair of yellow eyes loomed in the darkness.  
  


* * *

  
  
It was cold.  That was the first thing that Alma noticed.  It was cold, and it was  _damp_.  
  
Alma shuddered, as he opened his eyes.  He was tired, and his whole body  _ached_  – it felt as though something were jabbing into his side, and his neck was painfully stiff.  Not to mention his head was absolutely  _pounding_.   _‘Where….?’  
  
_ Somewhat disoriented, Alma blinked, as he tried to focus on where he was.  He noticed that he was crammed into a small space, with thick tree roots and wet moss.  Confusion and panic began to seep into him – where was he?  He had fallen asleep somewhere, but not in his bed, and he wasn’t in his room –    
  
Then, like a flood, the memories returned.  Suman.  The training session.  Coming into the woods...  
  
_An anti-akuma weapon, ready to fire and just inches away from Alma.  Alma backed against a tree.  Suman telling Alma to hold still…  
  
Alma _ begging _, and Suman telling him what had happened._  
  
Everything crashed into the forefront Alma’s consciousness.  
  
Sheril wanted Alma dead.  He wanted Alma dead, and he had ordered Suman to do it.  
  
Like an anchor, Alma’s heart plummeted, as the horrible reality began to seep in.   _‘It…it wasn’t a dream then…’_  
  
Alma shivered, both from the cold, and from the way his skin crawled.  He felt nauseous, and had he not been so depleted Alma might have lost his stomach right there.    
  
He shifted, and leaned against the inside of the tree hollow.  Alma’s eyes were distant, as the shock still weighed on him.  His shoulders shook slightly.  
  
He couldn’t go back.  If he did, he was dead.  If he did….  
  
Alma tensed, as he remembered Suman’s words.  Suman’s family would be at risk if Alma went back.   _‘Anna and Jaime…’_  
  
Why, though?   _Why_  was this happening?  Alma racked his brain, as he tried to think of what could have spurned this all.  All of those years, Alma had lived with Sheril.  The man was his  _stepfather_.  They weren’t close – Alma couldn’t deny that, nor could he deny the way Sheril seemed to always look down on him, as he criticized him mercilessly.  But, had Sheril truly viewed Alma as some kind of threat?  Had he truly  _hated_ him that much?  
  
Alma’s mind flashed back to the past few days.  All of the times Sheril had spoken to him.  All of the times Sheril had reassured Alma that he were  _only_ trying to be helpful.   
  
_‘All that time…he was….’_  
  
Alma tried to swallow, but his throat felt dry.  He didn’t understand.  He didn’t understand what he had even done  _wrong_.  
  
Biting his lip, Alma couldn’t help but wonder what was going on at the castle right now.  Had….had anyone noticed he was missing?  Had Klaud noticed?  Had Suman returned, to tell her?  God, what about his  _mother_?  Would Sheril lie, and act as if he knew nothing?  Feign sympathy and concern?  
  
Just…  
  
Alma released a breath, as he felt himself tremor.  Everything was overwhelming him, and it was as though he couldn’t even process what had happened.  Breathing felt difficult, and Alma tried to calm himself.   _‘Calm down…just…just calm down…_ ’  
  
The attempt was in vain, as Alma felt himself threatening to fall apart from the inside out, eyes watering.  
  
_‘Breathe,’_ He tried to remind himself.   _‘Just…just breathe…it’s….it’ll be okay…_  
  
Except it wouldn’t.  It wouldn’t be okay.   
  
A few long minutes passed, and eventually Alma was able to calm himself down just to where he knew he wouldn’t entirely break down right there.  Once he had gotten to that point, he found himself itching to stay hidden in that tree hollow, away and concealed from everything.  Where no one could find him, and no one could hurt him.  
  
But…somewhere, deep down, Alma knew that he couldn’t just stay where he was.  Not in that tree hollow.  No, Alma needed to go  _somewhere_.   
  
But, where?   _Where_  was Alma supposed to go?  Suman hadn’t known, and Alma had never even been outside of the kingdom save for one time that he could hardly recall – and that had been to Lyons.  Alma didn’t know if that would have been a place he should go to.  There was of course the possibility to just go back, but that seemed a poor choice – just what would Alma do in that situation?  Would he actually chance risking Suman’s family getting hurt?  What would he even  _say?_  
  
Either way, his options were limited, and none of the choices Alma was left with seemed that appealing.  
  
A moment more passed, and Alma finally moved, hesitantly crawling out of the tree hollow.  He winced as he pressed against the bark with his left hand though, and looked at it.  Then, he remembered he had cut it.    
  
Alma looked at his hand.  The palm had been sliced into somewhat badly, and he could see where dirt and soil had already gotten into it – certainly not a good thing.  If Alma didn’t want it to get infected, he would need to clean it as soon as possible.  
  
Standing, Alma looked around.  He noticed that while it was dark, there was still some specks of light spilling through the treetops – though, it had been darker before he passed out.  Had he slept through the night?  It would have easily explained why his body ached; sleeping on tree roots had done him no favors.  
  
Alma turned, glancing in another direction.  He stared for a second, then looked in another.    
  
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Alma’s gut, as a crucial detailed dawned on him: he couldn’t remember which way he had come from.  
  
Internally, he cursed.  Alma had been so distraught when he was running that he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings  _at all_ ;  he couldn’t even remember how far he had run, let alone which direction he had gone in.  Everything had happened in such a blur, and Alma had been in such a frenzy that he just…hadn’t even thought about it.    
  
_‘Nothing looks familiar…’_  Alma thought, completely at a loss for which direction to go in.  He tried to glance up, to see if he could tell what position the sun was in; however, the branches and leaves were so dense that aside from the few pockets of light Alma couldn’t tell north from south or east from west.  
  
Once again, Alma could feel panic bubbling within him, slow at first but threatening to crescendo.  He tried to cap it.  Alma had already experienced one meltdown, and couldn’t even remember how much time had passed since.  And it wasn’t as though he could just  _stay_ …  
  
Anxiously, Alma picked a random direction and started walking.  
  
Although illuminated just enough to see, the woods were still dark.  The ground was shadowed, and the trees were gnarled and twisted.  Many of them were just so old looking, and were covered in moss.  It was significantly cooler in this area as well with the lack of light, and many of the leaves looked as though they were changing color despite it still being only early autumn.  
  
_‘Maybe I went north…’_  Alma thought, as he rubbed his arms, unable to ignore how cold it felt in this particular area.  Even though he was wearing long sleeves, the dampness in the air seemed to impact Alma, and the pale blue, silk-woven shirt he wore would only do so much to keep him warm.  
  
After a few moments, a faint sound trickled into Alma’s ears.  He stopped to listen, before he recognized the sound as water rushing.  
  
Picking up his pace, Alma went a bit farther, slowing when the noise got a little louder.  He came to a stop shortly though, as he ended arriving at a creek.  
  
Alma bent down, and placed his left hand in the water.  Carefully, he tried to clean what debris had gotten into the cut and did his best to ignore the stinging sensation.  As he did this, Alma noticed his left wrist, and the silvery bracer.  
  
Alma stared at it for a second, then went back to trying to clean the wound.  He didn’t want to think about the innocence.  
  
Eventually, Alma had cleaned the cut to the best of his ability.  He didn’t have any cloth, so he ended up having to tear of his left sleeve so he could wrap the left hand; it ended up revealing the innocence more, but it couldn’t be helped.  It wasn’t like his right hand could pull from the right sleeve.  
  
Once that was done, Alma tried to think of what to do next.  It wasn’t as though there was much he could do – walking was more or less his only option.  But, he was worried; the woods felt endless, and they were  _huge_.  Villages and towns were sparse, and mostly near the country’s capital.  No one really lived in the woods. At least, no one that Alma knew of.  
  
Even so, what was Alma supposed to do when he  _did_  make it somewhere?  He realized he didn’t even have any money, and given the nature of what had happened…  
  
A sharp pain seemed to pierce Alma’s heart, and he nearly cringed.  He got up swiftly, and began to walk.  
  
_‘It’s so quiet here,’_  Alma thought.   _‘There aren’t even really any birds around…’_  
  
A chill passed through Alma, and it tickled his spine.  He tried to ignore it.  
  
Alma wasn’t certain how long he walked for after that.  Minutes, hours – he didn’t really have a way to keep track of time, and it didn’t help that there weren’t any landmarks he knew of to measure how far he was going.   A few times he ended up stopping, just to rest for a moment, but Alma never stayed in one spot for long, and did his best to keep moving.  
  
As the day progressed, Alma began to feel a little lightheaded – probably because he hadn’t eaten anything since the day before.  Actually, what _was_ he even going to do about food?  Alma hadn’t seen anything like berries or any sort of vegetation around, and it wasn’t like he could go on without eating forever.  
  
Alma sighed.   _‘It’s like everything keeps getting worse-‘_  
  
Somewhere, not far off, there was a rustle.  
  
Alma stiffened, as he went still.  He hadn’t heard or seen any animals since coming so deep into the forest, and the sudden noise was startling.    
  
Once more, the area fell quiet, and Alma relaxed.   _‘It was nothing-’_

  
Another rustle, and there was a blast.  Alma barely had time to think as he fell from the impact; whatever had been blasted had not hit him, but it had been  _close_.  
  
Alma looked around, but smoke had filled the air.  His heart raced, as he got onto his knees, just spying the silhouette of something through the smoke.  There was the sound of something preparing to fire.  
  
Eyes widening, Alma jumped to his feet as he ran, barely escaping another blow that was thrown.  There was more smoke from the explosion, further obstructing Alma’s vision.  However, through the impact Alma was just able to make out the outline of something bipedal and awkwardly-shaped – malformed, even.  It had a metallic-looking body as though it were forged from iron, with joint-like limbs and an ashen-colored face.  
  
For a moment, Alma caught a glimpse of lifeless, dead eyes.  The eyes of an akuma.  
  
Alma immediately had to dodge again, as the akuma sent another blast his way – although, this time Alma took advantage of the smoke that came from the attack.  The akuma had not re-located Alma yet as the smoke again created a distraction, allowing Alma to swiftly hide behind one of the trees.  He crouched down, trying to conceal himself as much as possible so he could try to keep an eye on the creature from behind the shrubbery.  
  
In his chest, Alma’s heart hammered.  The smoke had started to clear, and he could see the akuma looking around, agitated and animalistic.  Alma could also see it was actually hovering off the ground slightly, though it had no wings of any kind.  
  
Looking down, Alma gripped his left wrist at the bracer.  “Come on,  _please_ activate!” He urged under his breath.  
  
The innocence flickered a bit, further spurning Alma on.  _‘Just activate-!’_  
  
Alma’s thoughts cut off, as there was the sound of something moving caught his attention; it was loud, and sounded like metal grinding against metal.  Alma looked up, and nearly lost all color in his face: hovering slightly above him and getting ready to aim was an akuma – a  _second_  one.  
  
Alarm coursed through Alma, as he knew there was no way he would be able to move fast enough this time.  The strange, canon-like appendage was too close, and even if Alma did get away there was no telling what the other akuma would do once it saw him-  
  
“Damn it, just  _activate already_!” Alma shouted, adrenaline flaring.  
  
There was a large spark, and a light extended out from the bracer’s tendril-like pattern.  The light was long, and curved slightly before solidifying into something that looked as though it were made of ivory and silvery.  
  
Shock filled Alma’s eyes.   _‘A-A bow..!?’  
  
_ The sound of the akuma’s attack coming caused Alma’s thought to halt, as his reflexes kicked in.  He didn’t have an arrow, but on impulse Alma pulled back the string.  As he did this, something materialized, and once Alma released the string an arrow of light took form.  
  
The arrow pierced the akuma’s side, and it shrieked as it pulled away, withering.  
  
Seeing it was weakened, Alma repeated the motion, this time focusing his aim more as he shot the akuma near its center.  This time, the blow was more successful, as the akuma began to dissolve and crumble into ashes.  
  
Alma stood, supporting himself against the tree.  He didn’t have any time to really think though, as he could hear the sound of something else about to fire behind him.  
  
Rounding on his heel, Alma turned, and shot, as he nailed the akuma dead center.  
  
As the other akuma fell, it sizzled, the toxic fumes beginning to spill from it.  
  
Alma staggered, and hurried away – even if the akumas had been killed, he didn’t know if any others were around. Stopping to even look could have posed a risk.  
  
Still. It was hard for Alma _not_ to look back, and to stare at the monstrosities that had just attacked him.  Even though their ashen faces were branded into his mind, and their dead eyes now scorched his memory – there was a horrid compulsion to look back.  
  
Alma fought it, and ran a few paces.   
  
The prince stopped, as he panted, trying to catch his breath.  His blood was pulsating thickly in his ears, and he felt hot from moving so quickly.  He also felt  _dizzy_  – Alma’s whole head just felt clouded, and his whole body weighed down heavily.    
  
There was the sensation of something coursing through his left hand, and Alma looked over: he was still holding the bow.   _  
  
_ A bow.  
  
Alma realized if anything, he was _remarkably_ lucky.  A bow was something he was familiar with, and  _knew_  how to use.  Looking back, Alma didn’t know if he would have even stood a chance against the akumas if his innocence had turned out to be some weapon he wasn’t familiar with. – so much of what he had done had bee instinctual.  
  
Alma continued to look at the bow.  It matched the bracer in the way it seemed to be designed, and the way in which the bow’s edges curved; it was almost reminiscent of something floral, and even a bit feathery.  
  
The bow then illuminated, before dissolved into light; it then disappeared back into the bracer.  
  
Alma exhaled.  He felt…incredibly drained in that moment, and almost as though he could have crawled onto the ground and fallen asleep right there.    
  
He shook his head.   _‘No,’_  Alma told himself.   _‘Not here…you…have to find somewhere else…’_  
  
Forcing himself to move, Alma started walking.  He noticed it seemed to take a lot more effort though, as his body dragged.  A few times he made the mistake of pressing his left hand against a tree for support, but would wince; he kept forgetting about the cut he had, and that under the bandages fabric it was still an open wound.  It hadn’t gotten any better after gripping the bow so tightly for certain.    
  
When Alma looked at his hand, he could see it was bleeding a bit through the fabric.  
  
Alma kept walking – he couldn’t do anything for it now, and the soiled fabric would have to suffice.  
  
Eventually, Alma had to pause, as he leaned against the tree.  He closed his eyes, as he took a few breaths.   _‘I just need a few minutes…’_  
  
The air was quiet, and for a second Alma could feel himself threaten to drift off.  He was so tempted to just sink down onto the ground just there, and to go to sleep…  
  
Alma’s eyes opened, when he felt himself sway a bit.  No – he had to keep moving-  
  
The sound of metal scratching on metal entered into Alma’s ears, and he immediately woke up a bit more.  He turned, just in time to catch another akuma – similar to the strange, bipedal ones he had seen earlier – with a canon-like arm preparing to shoot.  
  
Instinct taking over, Alma reacted.  “Activate!” He shouted, as the bracer illuminated.  Once more, the bow formed, and Alma drew back the string, releasing an energized arrow at the akuma.  
  
The akuma leapt out of the way; Alma turned, and tried to shoot again.  As he did so, his environment seemed to spin a bit.  
  
Alma took a breath, and tried to focus.  He quickly located the akuma’s location, and prepared to shoot-  
  
Alma froze.  Beside the akuma, there was another one.   _‘There’s two of them!?’_  
  
Attempting to ignore the icy dread that seeped into his core, Alma aimed for his initial target.  However, both akuma split ways, and the shot missed.  
  
On both sides of him, Alma could hear them moving.   In a rapid-fire motion he turned to shoot one, managing to hit the akuma in the side.  If anything, that one would be slowed.  
  
However, Alma could hear the attack from the other akuma being realized, and Alma was forced to throw himself onto the ground in a last-ditch attempt to void it.  Smoke filled the air, and Alma coughed.  His eyelids felt heavy.  
  
_‘I’m not going to have the stamina to keep fighting at this rate,’_ Alma realized, as he began to panic.  How was he supposed to even keep up with these things?  He had defeated the first two by chance really, and if more akuma continued to show up at this rate, Alma didn’t think he would much longer.  
  
Alma tried to stand, but the whole world seemed to spin, causing him to fall back down.  His vision seemed to blur a bit, and Alma felt his anxiety spike.   _‘No!’_  
  
This was it.  Alma couldn’t do it anymore – he didn’t have the training, or the energy to keep fighting.  He didn’t even know  _why_  the innocence had chosen him as an accommodator; it wasn’t like Alma knew what he was doing.  He couldn’t even survive in that damn forest without falling to pieces.  
  
_‘I can’t…’_  
  
Alma gripped the bow with his left hand, and could feel the warmth of blood seep through.  Somewhere in the background, he could hear one of the akuma readying another attack.  
  
_‘I…can’t do this…’_  
  
Alma’s vision was fading, but out of the corner of his eye he could see the bow de-materialize.  He didn’t have the energy to try to call it back.   _‘I can’t…’_  
  
Suddenly, there was a shrill cry – the cry of an akuma, shrieking and withering.  In addition to it, Alma noticed there was another sound – something that sounded oddly musical, like a string instrument playing in the distance.   _‘A melody...?’  
  
_ Another cry – this time from the other akuma.  Blearily, Alma tried to open his eyes just to see it getting sliced in half by some unknown source.  
  
Alma could not look for any longer though, as his world soon faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my week has started off pretty terribly, and it meant I was in a crummy enough mode to edit this angst-ridden chapter. XD
> 
> But, yeah. This chapter hurt, and writing the parts with Alma was a challenge. He keeps fluctuating between levels of shock and denial, and all of these heavy emotions are just coming to surface that he didn’t even realize he had. But, he’s also been placed into a situation where that survival instinct is bound to kick in, so he’s just...a mess, and entirely all over the place. I really can’t emphasize how exhausting it was to try to navigate that sort of mess. ;__;
> 
> And Suman - Suman is a mess. (But you know what? Everyone is just a mess in this AU right now. Help me.) Though in all seriousness, it’s a bit difficult writing his side because it’s just...a frustrating situation? He /wants/ to tell someone like Klaud what happened, but there’s that paranoia of being watched, and what will happen if someone (ex. the servant woman, who /is/ Lulu Bell since a few people asked) finds out the truth. Though, I imagine deep down Suman knows Sheril is aware of something; he let Suman go too easily, and that’s only going to add to Suman’s paranoia. (And...there is a reason for this, which will come up later on) 
> 
> At the very least, there was some excitement in the last part of this chapter. Alma finally synchronized, and I knew from the beginning I wanted him to have a bow-like innocence. There’s some leeway with that, since in canon we’re not really sure /what/ a refined version of Alma’s innocence looked like, and Past!Alma looks like she’s holding a staff/bow of some kind in the illustration Hoshino released (though, it doesn’t quite match up with the parasitic-looking innocence Alma gets later on? Again, this is why I just took liberties). I sort of just meshed the two ideas really.
> 
> But now, we have a cliffhanger - and there’s someone else who was in those woods. But..ahaha, yeah. It’s a cliffhanger. XD
> 
> I’m not sure when I’ll get the next chapter (11) posted. I’m sort of all over the place, since I’m currently job hunting, but I’m going to be starting 15 soon (still trying to keep ahead). So at the very least it’ll come in the next week.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s been continuing to give feedback! I hope you all have a lovely week, and enjoyed the chapter. <3


	11. The Men in the House

_“Is he awake?”  
  
“No – no, he’s still asleep.”_  
  
Alma had no idea where he was.  His eyes were closed, and eyelids heavy; he didn’t have the energy to open them.   _  
  
A pause.  “How is he?”  
  
“Exhausted, but he should be alright,” The second voice answered.  “This hand though...”  
  
_ Was he hearing things?  Alma thought he was hearing someone speak – or two people, really.  Alma couldn’t tell though.  At one point, he felt something – or someone – move his left hand for a bit, and it stung briefly.  But Alma was drifting in and out of consciousness too much to determine if the sensation had been real, and the feeling was soon forgotten.  
  
_“We’ll let him sleep for now.  Perhaps when he wakes up he’ll tell us who he is.”  
  
_ Slowly, Alma fell back to sleep.

* * *

  
  
When Alma started to return to consciousness, he couldn’t remember much. Everything in his head was a jumbled mess of memories that he couldn’t yet piece together, and his whole body felt weighed down. A part of Alma was greatly tempted to allow himself to slip back into sleep. He was just so worn out, and the bed he was on felt so _nice._  
  
_‘A bed…?’_  
  
Slowly, Alma blinked his eyes open. He was lying on his back, on something soft – nowhere near as soft as the bed he was used to sleeping in, but a substantial improvement from dirt and tree roots.  
  
Alma focused his gaze, and sat up. He noticed that someone had put a blanket over him, which cause him to look at it in confusion. As Alma did this, he also could see something else: his left hand had been re-bandaged.  
  
Lowering his hand, Alma looked around. He had been placed on a thick cot, or makeshift bed of sorts, and he was in a room. It was a small one with wood board floors, and Alma saw that there was a plain little nightstand nearby and dresser – nothing else really. There was also a window, where Alma could see that while it was still fairly light the sky was beginning to look dusky.  
  
_‘It’s almost evening?’_ Alma wondered, getting ready to get up to look outside, and to try to see where he was. Was he in some kind of village? How had he ended up there? Already, Alma could feel the questions beginning to brim, as he gradually became more awake.  
  
There was a soft knock, before the door gently pushed open. Although a delicate noise, it was still startling to Alma, and he jumped a bit as he shifted his attention from the window to the door.  
  
In the doorway, there was a man. He looked to be middle-aged, with thick, curly hair that was already beginning to fade from a dusty brown to gray. There was a slight scruff on his face in addition to his mustache; he also wore glasses that seemingly kind brown eyes remained behind.  
  
The man looked slightly surprised when he saw Alma, then smiled. “Oh, you’ve woken up,” He noted casually.   “That’s good – I was beginning to worry.”  
  
Alma stared, still not sure how to react. At some point his whole body tensed up, and his eyes were filled with hesitancy. Somewhat instinctually, Alma felt himself inching back a hair. He didn’t know this man, or what was going on, and what with all that had happened, Alma was still rattled and filled with unease.  
  
The man seemed to notice the way in which Alma shrunk away, and his smile softened a bit. “Don’t worry. I promise that as scary as the hair may be I’m not that terrible,” He reassured.   “My name is Tiedoll.”  
  
Alma remained somewhat uncertain, and his eyes glanced around the room a bit anxiously. “Where am I…?” He found himself asking, though the words came out in a barely audible volume. Alma was still straining a bit to remember all that had happened right before he lost consciousness, and the unfamiliarity of his location didn’t seem to be helping much.  
  
“I anticipated you might be confused when you woke up.   You’re in a safe place though, rest assured,” Tiedoll answered. “Would you like something to eat?”  
  
_Food._ Alma couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, but he knew it had definitely been too long. Before he could verbally respond, Alma’s stomach growled loudly.  
  
Alma felt his cheeks burn, and he averted his gaze in embarrassment.  
  
Tiedoll merely chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes,” He said. “You can follow me downstairs – I think walking might do you some good given how long you’ve been in that bed.”  
  
This caused Alma to look at Tiedoll in confusion. It was only sundown, so surely he hadn’t been asleep for _that_ long, had he? However, before he could ask, Tiedoll had already left the room.  
  
Not sure what else to do, Alma stood. He noticed his boots had been taken off, but Alma spotted them beside the door, where he was able to slip them on quickly.  
  
When Alma left the room, he saw there was actually a narrow hallway outside, which dipped off into a small stairwell. Was he in a cottage of some kind? Alma found that he was tempted to look around, but his stomach panged in hunger, prompting Alma to follow where Tiedoll had gone instead.  
  
Downstairs, Alma came into a more open space that looked like a living area of sorts. There were a few seating areas, and Alma noticed with interest some drawings were over in a corner. Was Tiedoll an artist of some kind? Alma noticed that there was a place by the front door where coats could be hanged, as well; there were four hooks on the wall, but only two were being used.  
  
Alma stared. Did more than one person live in the house?  
  
The sound of movement and something lightly clanging caught Alma’s attention, and Alma moved on. He soon found himself wandering into what looked to be a small kitchen area, where the smell of something hot and savory filled his nostrils.  As Alma looked around, he spotted Tiedoll by a small iron stove; although, Alma soon realized they weren’t alone. There was a wooden table, and at it was a second man.  Despite being seated, Alma could see he was of a large stature, with deep olive skin and a shaved head.  He wore some strange headband though, with large, circular coverings over his ears.  
  
“You can go on and have a seat if you’d like,” Tiedoll suggested.  
  
Again, Alma hesitated a little.  But he then made his way over to the table where he sat down across from the second man who already had a bowl of food.  As Alma eyed the second man warily, he noticed that man’s irises and pupils were both faded to a pale, faintly pigmented blue.  
  
Alma stared, though he swiftly looked away when he realized that he was staring at a blind man.  
  
Tiedoll came to the table, and placed a bowl of hot stew in front of Alma with a utensil. “Here you are,” He offered. “There’s more than enough, so don’t be shy.”  
  
“Thank you,” Alma said, feeling genuinely grateful to have _anything_ at this point. He managed a small smile in Tiedoll’s direction. “It smells really good.”  
  
Tiedoll turned, glancing at the other man. “This is Marie. He’s the one who found you,” Tiedoll introduced.  
  
The other man, Marie, turned to face Alma. The corners of his lips upturned a hair. “Hello.”  
  
“The one who found me…?” Alma repeated quietly, as he tried to rack his memories for just _what_ had happened. He remembered being in the woods, and walking for a long time. Then…  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as he looked between Tiedoll and Marie.   “What happened to those akuma!?”  
  
“Don’t worry – Marie was able to take care of them,” Tiedoll explained.  
  
Surprise filled Alma’s eyes. Akuma couldn’t be handled by just anyone; only exorcists were capable of destroying them. Which meant…  
  
Alma looked over at Marie, questioningly. “You’re an…exorcist?”  
  
Marie nodded. “I was in the area, and heard something. By the time I had arrived, you were already passed out – seemed like you were holding up your own for a bit out there.”  
  
Alma averted his gaze slightly. That was right – he remembered having finally activated his bow innocence, and fending off the akuma for a bit. The first two he had managed to destroy, but the other two had been what nearly did him in. “How...long was I asleep for?” Alma asked.  
  
Marie paused. “I brought you back yesterday before dark. So since then.”  
  
Alma was shocked. “I was asleep that long!?” He exclaimed, as he started to piece together how much time had passed. _‘That means…I’ve been missing for more than two days…’_  
  
Inside, Alma’s heart twisted up painfully. Since waking up he hadn’t thought about home – or could he even call it that anymore? It was the only home Alma had ever known, but now he didn’t think he could ever return there. The thought alone was crushing, and Alma instantly struggled to try to do away with the feelings, shutting them away and pushing them aside.  
  
But, Alma couldn’t do that.   Suman. Klaud. His mother. Jaime. They all passed through Alma’s mind like a flash of light, cruelly flickering before he was left in shadows.  
  
“You really seemed to have pushed yourself out there,” Tiedoll observed. His eyes remained on Alma, before moving over to his left forearm. “Especially given it seems you’re an accommodator as well.”  
  
Mutely, Alma nodded, eyes still a bit downcast. His attention had been a bit split, as he threatened to fall into his own emotions and thoughts swirling about, but the prince tried to focus on the present moment instead.  
  
“You were pretty far into the woods – no one is ever in that area. Or this one,” Marie spoke, voice gentle. “What’s your name?”  
  
Alma looked up, a bit surprised with himself for having forgotten to introduce himself. “Alma…” He answered, though as he did this he felt rather peculiar. He had told these men his name, but what else would Alma tell them? What else _could_ Alma tell them?  
  
Alma wanted to trust them. He wanted to trust someone so badly. But the uncertainty lingered, despite the warmth of the food these men had offered and the small period of shelter.  
  
Tiedoll hummed quietly. “Alma, “ He repeated. “Interesting. You share the same first name as the Prince of Engelus then…not a very common name.”  
  
Immediately, Alma tensed. Had saying his name been a mistake? Should he have given a different name? Alma could feel himself growing nervous – what if these men tried to take him back to the castle?  
  
The idea was too troubling, and Alma felt his panic unexpectedly spike, as the flood of his anxiety returned with an unprecedented force.  
  
“Please don’t tell anyone!” Alma suddenly burst out, completely taking Tiedoll and Marie by surprise. His eyes were wide, as he looked at both men pleadingly. “Please – I really can’t have anyone know I’m out here!”  
  
Tiedoll stared, and Marie also seemed equally taken aback. A somewhat awkward silence fell at the table.  
  
“Well, I can’t say I was exactly expecting that sort of confirmation…” Tiedoll finally responded, breaking the silence.  
  
Hearing this, Alma blushed, as he realized that he had very _stupidly_ blown his own cover – even before he had realized that he had needed a cover to begin with. _‘Alma, you idiot,_ why _did you have to freak out like that!?’_ He scolded himself, now at even more of a loss of what to do that before.  
  
“You’re really the prince?” Marie asked, shock still looming in his tone. “But why would you be-“  
  
“ _Please_ don’t tell anyone,” Alma found himself begging once again. “Please, I-I really can’t go back!”  
  
As Alma went on, he could faintly hear his own voice fracture. He had attempted not to think much about the past few days since awakening in that cottage, but once again he could feel the memories beginning to creep forward like ice-cold scorpions crawling out from the darkness. Being taken into the woods. Suman nearly killing Alma. Alma learning that Sheril wanted him dead.  
  
Alma couldn’t go back. He don’t know what he would do if he had to.  
  
Seeing how distressed Alma was becoming, Tiedoll spoke firmly. “There now – we’re not going to tell anyone, and we’re not going to take you anywhere,” He emphasized, in an attempt to calm Alma. “Marie and I are only concerned – why were you in the woods? We’re nearly halfway in between Engelus and Arcaia, and that’s quite a ways to have come from where you would have been. Especially given how dangerous it is.”  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, and briefly looked down. He took a few breaths, as he tried to compose himself; he already felt shaky, and as though he were close to hyperventilating. That was something Alma certainly wanted to avoid doing – he felt as though he had humiliated himself enough as it was with the scene he was already making, and Alma knew he needed to try to collect himself somehow.  
  
As Alma struggled to gather himself, Tiedoll spoke again. “It’s alright,” He reassured, careful to keep his tone low and soft. “Take as much time as you need.”  
  
Alma nodded. His heart felt as though it were hammering in his chest, and he could feel his blood pulsating in his ears. However, Tiedoll and Marie remained quiet, patiently waiting for Alma to calm a bit.  
  
When he knew he wouldn’t fall apart right there at the table, Alma took a small, trembling breath as he tried to speak.   “I…was out there because I was with another exorcist. I had just synchronized with this innocence a few days before, and he told me we were going there to train,” Alma explained, his voice quivering slightly. “But when we finally were out in the woods, he…”  
  
Alma trailed off, as a series of sharp needles seemed to pierce his core, sickening him. He tried to continue speaking. “He…was about to kill me. But he let me go,” Alma finally pushed out, the words burning as they spilled forward. “My…stepfather made him do it. And if I go back, he’ll…”  
  
Tiedoll stared, as he and Marie both held pensive expressions. Tiedoll then glanced over at Marie briefly, before looking back at Alma, eyes more severe. “Your stepfather is Sheril Kamelot, correct?”  
  
Wordlessly, Alma nodded. His eyes felt misty, and he was struggling to keep himself together.   “Please…I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out I’m still alive….”  
  
Tiedoll shook his head. “No one here will be informing Sheril Kamelot of anything,” He stated. “It’ll be getting dark soon – why don’t you stay the night here again? We can figure something out in the morning when we’re all a bit clearer-headed.”  
  
Upon being given the offer, Alma looked at Tiedoll. “Really?” He asked, tentative and honestly surprised. Alma hadn’t been sure what to anticipate after telling Tiedoll and Marie what had happened.  
  
“Well, I’m certainly not about to send you out into the woods when it’s already going to be dark out.”  
  
Relief and gratitude overtook Alma. “Thank you so much!” Alma exclaimed. “I know I don’t have any money or anything, but I swear, I’ll do whatever I can to make up for it!”  
  
Tiedoll smiled at Alma’s eagerness to help. “Ah, don’t worry about that now – just focus on trying to recover more tonight, alright?” He said, before taking note of Alma’s attire. “We should get you into some clean clothes though. Whenever you finish dinner, we can do that.”

* * *

  
  
After dinner, Tiedoll accompanied Alma back upstairs. This time, Alma found that he was able to glance around a bit more. While walking back through the hall upstairs, he noticed there were a few doors just down from the room he were staying in.  
  
“What rooms are those?” Alma asked, as he looked on.  
  
“Oh, those are bedrooms. The two on the far end are where Marie and I stay,” Tiedoll answered, as he looked back at Alma. “The other two are bedrooms as well, but they’re currently occupied.”  
  
Alma looked at Tiedoll inquisitively. “Others live here?”  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “Yes, but they’re currently out getting supplies,” He explained, without going into further detail. Instead, he paused when they reached the room Alma had been in when he woke up. “If you don’t mind waiting here, I’ll find you a different shirt. That one you’re in looks like it’s about lived its life.”  
  
Looking at his shirt, Alma realized Tiedoll was right; between being dirty and torn, there wasn’t that much worth salvaging.  
  
Tiedoll left after that, leaving Alma alone in the room. Since he was more awake and alert, Alma found himself once again looking around – not that there was that much to look at in the tiny space of a room. The most interesting thing was easily the window, where Alma could see only the forest outside.  
  
Alma repressed a small shiver as he did this. The forest was incredibly dark – even more so now that it was night out. It was rather eerie in appearance, and looked as though it were an endless abyss just stretching outward. There were no signs of life, or any activity – just _nothing_.  
  
_‘Except akuma,’_ Alma remembered, wondering how far away it had been that he was ambushed by them. Was it possible they could be close to where Tiedoll and Marie lived?  
  
Tiedoll returned, interrupting Alma’s thoughts. He had a plain, white linen shirt with him. “Here you are,” Tiedoll said, as he handed the shirt to Alma. “It may be a bit loose on you, but it should do for now.”  
  
“No, it’s perfect!” Alma said, as he offered Tiedoll a grateful smile. “That’ll only make it more comfortable.”  
  
Alma paused as he looked at Tiedoll. “Ah, thanks about the hand by the way,” He said, knowing he hadn’t yet thanked Tiedoll for bandaging his hand yet. Then, Alma added, “And for the food. And letting me stay for the night, and…well, everything.”  
  
As Alma spoke these words, it was beginning to dawn on him just how much Tiedoll and Marie had done for him already – and they hardly even knew him.  
  
Tiedoll smiled kindly. “Of course,” He said. “I’ll leave you be for the night, but if you need anything you’ll know where to find Marie and me.”  
  
Alma nodded. “Okay,” He said. “Goodnight.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Tiedoll said, as he closed the door.  
  
After Tiedoll did so, he waited a moment outside the door. As he was still taking in just what all had transpired, he exhaled, before starting back downstairs. Once he exited from the stairs, Tiedoll spotted Marie seated in the living area.  
  
Tiedoll walked over, and sat across from Marie. “Well, that was a bit unexpected.”  
  
Marie, whose face had been downcast, lifted his head so he was facing Tiedoll. “Did you have any idea he was royalty when you saw him?”  
  
Tiedoll paused, expression thoughtful. “Considering the quality of his clothing and the embroidery on the hem, I figured he would have needed to at least be some rank of nobility,” Tiedoll responded. “But, no – I hadn’t anticipated he was a royal, let alone Sheril’s stepson.”  
  
A grim look passed over Marie, as his mouth seemed to harden into a line. “What do you think we should do?”  
  
“I’m not sure. This isn’t a situation we ever really anticipated. We’ve thought about what we might do if we ever found another accommodator, and we’ve thought about what we might do if we ever crossed paths with a royal. We never considered someone who may fall into both categories,” Tiedoll explained, before closing his eyes. A sigh escaped him. “Considering how upset he was getting at the table, I don’t think he was lying about his story either.”  
  
Marie paused, then nodded. “I could tell by the inflections in his voice,” He observed. “He sounded pretty scared. It didn’t seem like he really had anywhere to go either.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded, though was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Perhaps we should let him stay here. For the time being,” Tiedoll suggested. “I know we’ve made an effort to steer clear of royals in the past, but if he’s also an accommodator…”  
  
Marie hesitated. “I don’t disagree,” Marie said, though something seemed to hold him back. “But I am a bit concerned as to how the others will react to this. You know how strongly Kanda feels about royals and the higher nobility. Especially those with connections to Arcaia....”  
  
Tiedoll hummed pensively. “Yes, if anyone will be averse to the idea, it’ll be him – especially considering Alma is related to a Kamelot. But this is an unusual situation, so hopefully he’ll at least listen,” Tiedoll explained, before adding quietly. “We…do need to be wary of what risk it could pose if Alma were to leave. He’s now the only royal who knows of our location.”  
  
A moment passed, then Tiedoll spoke again. “We can’t afford to let any other royals discover where we’ve been hiding.”  
  
To this, Marie nodded. But, he didn’t say anything more.

* * *

  
  
Klaud was still well awake when the guards returned to the castle. Her mind was still alert and her eyes were still sharp; _how_ was a question though.  
  
For the past two days, Klaud had hardly slept. Her sleep had been restless early on, as her instinct had seemed to kick in that something was just _wrong_. This had started when Alma had missed their scheduled training session in the evening – something was highly unlike the prince. In all the years of being around Alma, Klaud had never known him to do such a thing. Not unless he had a good reason, and those times alone were far and few in-between.  
  
Maybe she had merely been paranoid. Maybe she had only been on edge, because now Alma was also an accommodator, and not only royalty. Klaud’s duties may have been primarily that of being the exorcist general, but there was still an infinitely larger weight that seemed to hang over her head, with a pressure to ensure that Alma would remain as safe as she could make possible.  
  
Klaud had reassured the queen of this, and yet it already looked as though she were failing.  
  
The morning after had been when Klaud really began to realize something somewhere was amiss. Again, Alma couldn’t be found, and when someone finally went to check his room, they saw that the bed had already been made as though no one had slept there for the night. Nothing had been moved, and the room more or less appeared untouched.  
  
At first, Klaud had tried not to panic. She had started to look, along with a few guards, to see if somehow they could locate Alma quickly. But as the day passed, a growing concern lingered among them, and by the end of the day the horrible reality was staring them in the face: Alma was missing.  
  
Unease and discord had ensued after, as a domino effect was beginning to quickly transpire. It was disturbing news, and even more so given the recent news of Alma synchronizing; whispers were already spreading as to whether that could have been a factor in the prince’s odd disappearance, and whether the occurrence was tied to the innocence. But Klaud tried not to let such words affect her, and she merely wanted to focus on finding Alma, while doing so as fast as possible.  
  
Now, she stood, and waited as the guards approached her. Looking between the guards as they returned through the castle gates, she eyed them carefully, expression one of anticipation. “Did you find him?”  
  
The guards exchanged glances, then shook their heads. “No, General,” One of the guards answered. “We searched all throughout the surrounding areas, including beyond the city outskirts before the seal marks end. None of the people have seen him either.”  
  
Klaud’s heart seemed to sink into an cold, bottomless pit, but she nodded. The situation wasn’t looking good, and if Alma couldn’t be found anywhere in the city, then the options of where he _could_ have been were not looking any better.  
  
Klaud took in a breath, as she spoke steadily. “We’ll continue looking again tomorrow. Check _everywhere_ ,” Klaud emphasized. “At this rate, we’ll need to send people out to the edge of the woods as well, and possibly into them.”  
  
The guards looked nervous at this news, and Klaud was firm as she added, “It’s _imperative_ we find him, and we can’t risk anything happening to him.”  
  
The guards nodded in understanding.  
  
Klaud returned inside after that. Lau Shimin was hanging on her shoulder, as always, and his large eyes blinked as he chattered anxiously.  
  
Klaud reached over, and stroked Lau’s head softly. “We’ll find him, Lau. Don’t worry,” Klaud reassured gently – although, she couldn’t help but feel that the reassurance was for herself just as much as it were for Lau.  
  
As Klaud continued along, she eventually crossed paths with Suman. He had been walking somewhere, somewhat briskly, but had stopped upon seeing the general.  
  
Suman looked at Klaud, eyes wary. Then, before he could say anything he broke eye contact with the general. “Any luck?” He asked, words strained.  
  
Klaud shook her head. “No. We’re sending people out to the edge of the woods tomorrow, and we’ll do another sweep of the castle grounds and city,” She answered, before sighing heavily. “It doesn’t make any sense. Where could he have even _gone_?”  
  
Suman shifted. He looked rather on edge, and Klaud wondered if this was a result of how disturbed Suman may have been by the prince’s disappearance. However, Suman had seemed rather agitated for the past few days, and Klaud couldn’t help but question if something more might have been going on.  
  
Eyes still avoidant, Suman spoke. “He…couldn’t have gone far. If he went anywhere.”  
  
Klaud frowned at these words. “If he went anywhere…?” She repeated, looking at Suman, eyes piercing. “Do you think something else could have happened? Suman, if you have _any_ idea-“  
  
“I don’t,” Suman spoke, voice rushed and irritable.   He took a breath, as he tried to calm himself. “I’m just…trying to understand it too. What might have happened.”  
  
Klaud looked at Suman warily, but nodded. “I see,” She said. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll start looking again in the morning.”  
  
Suman nodded, but said nothing.  
  
Klaud left him after that, and Suman watched as the general walked off – likely to report the unfortunate news to the queen.  
  
A frown remained on Suman’s face, as he quickly started off again. Internally, he was cursing. _‘Damn it, damn it,_ damn it _!’_  
  
Suman had fallen into a mess. Sheril, as far as Suman knew, was under the impression that Alma had been killed, but Suman knew the truth. Suman knew that Alma had been able to run off and into those woods, hopefully making it _somewhere_ where he could have hid for the time being. God, but where would that have even _been_? Suman couldn’t ignore how vast the forest was, as well as how dangerous. And Alma hadn’t been able to activate his anti-akuma weapon yet either.  
  
A fearful question thus plagued Suman: what if Alma _hadn’t_ made it?  
  
The possibility was nauseating to ponder. Suman’s guilt had only seemed to fester over the past few days, increasing with each search that took place.  
  
More than anything, Suman wanted to tell someone what had happened. He wanted to tell _Klaud_ what had happened. But every time Suman came close to doing so, he happened to catch sight of that damn _woman_ watching him: the one with blonde hair and dark eyes, who seemed to be acting as some kind of informant for Sheril. It only added to Suman’s paranoia, and the fact of the matter was that Suman _was_ being watched. He could always feel those dark eyes on him, and he could always feel that he was being observed, carefully and to ensure that he kept quiet.  
  
Suman didn’t know how much longer he could hold up. The guilt. The paranoia. At some point, he would break from something.  
  
It was only a matter of what.  


* * *

  
  
What had happened over the next few days was not anything Sheril hadn’t expected.  
  
There were a few questions from Tricia, asking if Sheril had seen Alma. Then later on, more concern. It had only been a matter of time before the exorcist general had then brought it to the queen’s attention about Alma missing, and from there things had continued as anticipated.  
  
Tricia had never been able to come to terms with grief, or any other unpleasant tragedy for that matter. Sheril knew this well, and used it to his advantage often. It was easy enough to do so; he only had to offer a few consoling words, and a few gentle touches. Then, like a marionette on a string Tricia was more than willing to play into his hands, relying on Sheril as though he were some sort of savior to help ease her suffering.  
  
It had always been this way, and continued on as such.  
  
Though, this time even Sheril couldn’t deny that the queen was beside herself – even more so than usual. Tricia was clearly making an effort to at least _somewhat_ hold herself together, though she was failing. Every word spoken was fractured by a tremor of fear, and every look she gave was soiled with absolute worry.  
  
She was seconds from breaking, and regarding what that would lead to Sheril could only suspect.  
  
Not that it mattered too much – what mattered was that Sheril kept the situation carefully controlled. That had always been his role.  
  
Instigate. Watch. Control.  
  
The one exorcist, Suman, wasn’t as challenging. Lulu Bell had been thorough in ensuring that the exorcist was aware he was being watched, moving him to paranoia and keeping him quiet. That was good, as Sheril couldn’t risk him talking, and Suman would be dealt with soon enough to guarantee that.  
  
There was still the prince, though. Alma as far as Sheril knew was alive – a bit of an annoyance, but nothing that couldn’t be taken care of. The primary concern was to make sure that Alma at the very least didn’t unexpectedly try to return to the castle, and Sheril would prefer that he be killed sooner or later, along with the guarantee that the innocence could be eradicated.  
  
If Sheril was fortunate enough, the akuma in the woods would have taken care of this.  
  
Sheril had hoped this, but the notion was quickly eliminated when Road spoke to him, when they were alone and isolated from anyone else in the castle.  
  
“You’ll never guess where he ended up,” Road spoke, words playful and teasing.  
  
Sheril looked over at Road, a small look of displeasure on his face. “Where?” He asked coolly. He was rather irked by the fact that Alma evidently was still alive and running around somewhere, but he was intrigued by the oddly excitable look Road seemed to have.  
  
Road smiled. “With Froi Tiedoll.”  
  
For once, Sheril felt himself taken by surprise. “What?” He asked, words sharp.  
  
Smile broadening, Road went on. “Looks like he’s been hiding out in the woods, and even Noise Marie is with him,” She elaborated. “So now Alma’s staying with them.”  
  
Sheril stared over at Road for a beat, before his surprise melted into a smile as well. “Really? How serendipitous,” Sheril said. “Does this mean Yuu Kanda is there as well?”  
  
Road shrugged. “Haven’t seen him there yet,” She said, as she glanced at her hand mirror. “But I can let you know.”  
  
Sheril nodded. “Please do. If we can, I’d like to get these loose ends tied up all at once. It would save us a headache later on.”  
  
“I can do that,” Road said. She tilted her head to the side, as she eyed Sheril. “Are you still going to let me have my playtime?”  
  
Sheril looked at Road adoringly. “Of course,” He said kindly. “I could never refuse my darling Road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is going to be a kind stranger who is just super chill and laid-back when you wake up in what is supposedly their house, then that would be Tiedoll. Only he would have that level of chill. (It has to be the fatherly instinct – Tiedoll will just adopt everyone, and I need him to adopt me next.)
> 
> I know some people were expecting it to be Kanda who found Alma, but in this AU, I really didn’t want that to happen for a few reasons. Aside from that I felt like it’d be too obvious, I think Alma needed to be found by someone more gentle given the state he would be in. Not that Kanda isn’t…capable of saving someone (he definitely is), but there’s something very comforting about Marie and Tiedoll, and to me it was important that Alma meet them first. He’s really confused, and has been through hell by this point – so I wanted to give him a break before he interacts with Kanda (just hang in there – it’s coming up soon!). Especially since that’s going to be a very chaotic and clashing interaction.
> 
> But, Alma is finally somewhere safe (at least, it seems so for now), and finally might have some allies. He’s desperate to find some sense of security, though there’s obviously more to the situation than he realizes with Marie and Tiedoll. To Alma, these are some really kind strangers, and while it’s true Tiedoll and Marie are good-natured, they definitely have a reason for keeping a close eye on Alma – which relates to them not wanting their location divulged, for one reason or another.
> 
> I also wanted to shift gears, and focus on what was happening back at the castle since Alma had disappeared. I’ll probably be switching POVs here and there, since I clearly can’t ditch that complicated mess going on (especially when things /really/ start to get messy – because oh, it’s going to be a mess).
> 
> Overall, this was definitely a calmer chapter – which was needed after those last two. But hopefully the plot is still picking up for those reading. (Especially with Sheril because oh ho ho he knows Tiedoll, and Marie, and apparently Kanda. Dun dun dun. >.> )
> 
> I’ll try to keep getting these updates out weekly! I sort of struggled with editing this, and finishing wrapping up chapter 15 (still keeping about 4 chapters ahead XD). But job applications are killing me, so there will probably be some points where I may get a bit slower. >.< (Also I have some events coming up these next two weeks I have to work PLS SEND HALP)
> 
> As always, feedback and comments welcome! <3


	12. The Other Exorcists

The house was silent as night loomed over. It stretched above the treetops of the forest in inky darkness, devoid of any starlight and blanketed with clouds. A chill lingered in the air, as the branches of the trees swayed quietly.  
  
In the darkness, two figures approached the house – both hooded in cloaks, and each hauling a bag with them. They moved along, swiftly reaching the back door. Their steps were light, as they attempted to be soundless; everything was so still, that even the slightest creak sounded painfully disruptive.  
  
Once they were inside, the shorter of the two shut the door, though shut somewhat loudly.  
  
The other figured whipped his head back, as his eyes glared icily through the unlit room. “Damn it, Daisya-“

  
“Calm down. It’s wasn’t _that_ loud,” Daisya said nonchalantly. His hood was still up, but he was slightly shorter of the two; he had a lean, athletic frame and from beneath his hood, narrow, dark brown eyes peered out. From beneath them were odd, tear-like markings the color of purple. “I just have a little restless energy is all.”  
  
The other figure scoffed under his breath, as he pulled his hood down. Out of it fell a long black ponytail, as he turned to look back at Daisya with cool blue eyes. “If you have so much energy, help me get this shit put up then.”  
  
Daisya grinned. “Someone’s a little grumpy,” He teased. “Not that you’re ever _not_ that way…”  
  
“Just shut up and help.”  
  
“Lighten up, Kanda. I won’t keep you away from your beauty sleep.”  
  
Irritation flashed across Kanda’s features, but he didn’t comment, and instead went off to start putting away the supplies that they had brought back with them.  
  
Daisya followed Kanda’s lead, lugging his sack with him.  
  
Kanda was putting up some things already, eager to crawl into bed. It was sometime in the middle of the night, and he had Daisya had tried to return back to the house as quickly as possible to avoid having to sleep on the cold earth once more. The trip to the nearest village was almost two full days away, but the occasional break tended to make the trip longer – as well as the occasional run in with an akuma.  
  
Fortunately, Kanda and Daisya were more than prepared for such interruptions.  
  
As Kanda continued to put things away, he paused when he noticed where the dishes were by the washbasin. There was an area where things could be left to dry, usually anything that had been used for meals. A few dishes had been left out for that reason – which wasn’t unusual.  
  
Except, Kanda noticed that there were three sets rather than what should have been two.  
  
Kanda frowned, and Daisya noticed.  
  
“What’s up?” Daisya asked, not sure what it was Kanda seemed to be mulling over.  
  
Kanda shook his head. “Nothing,” He said, as he tried to finish up his initial task of putting away the supplies.  
  
Someone could be heard entering into the kitchen, and both Kanda and Daisya glanced over to see both Marie and Tiedoll.  
  
“I thought I heard someone down here,” Marie noted.  
  
“Shit, and here we were trying to be quiet,” Daisya said, before looking at Marie with a small grin. “Not sure why we bother trying when you wear those damn earphones.”  
  
“It’s fine – we’ve been up,” Tiedoll spoke.   “You two made it back earlier than expected I see.”  
  
“Yeah, well Kanda over here wouldn’t stop griping about sleeping on the ground,” Daisya blamed, as he earned an irritable scoff from Kanda. “So we hustled. Only ran into one akuma, and it was pretty weak.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded.   “Well, I’m glad we caught you when we did. There’s something we need to talk about.”  
  
This caused Kanda’s frown to deepen, as his expression remained serious. “What about?”  
  
“Yeah, I mean, you want to talk at this time of night? Must be pretty exciting stuff if it can’t wait until morning,” Daisya added.  
  
Tiedoll glanced over at Marie, then back at Kanda and Daisya. There was a bit of a hesitancy that seemed to linger in his eyes, but he cut to the chase as he started to speak. “Marie found someone unconscious in the woods while you two were gone. An accommodator. He didn’t wake up until just earlier this evening actually, though he’s asleep upstairs now.”  
  
Kanda and Daisya both seemed to still, surprise filling their eyes.  
  
“Seriously?” Daisya asked, his voice filled with complete intrigue. “What was he doing out there? Man, the one time I actually opt to go on the supply run…“  
  
Kanda, though also bearing interest, was more focused. “Is he with a unit?” He asked. There was an edge of distrust to his words, and suspicion quietly seemed to spill through the inquiry.  
  
Marie inhaled, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he let Tiedoll continue to speak.  
  
“That’s where it gets…a bit gray,” Tiedoll spoke, cautious of how he was to form his next words. “This accommodator…he’s also a royal.”  
  
Daisya’s eyes widened. “A royal? _Here_? You mean there’s a royal actually in this _house_?” He questioned, still partially in disbelief. “Holy _shit_ -“  
  
Kanda froze, his whole body going rigid. Everything seemed to still, and everyone’s voices seemed to fade into his ears. _‘A royal…’_  
  
Tiedoll tried to speak in response to Daisya’s reaction. “Yes, it’s a bit strange I know-“  
  
“Are you fucking _insane_?” Kanda interrupted, finally seeming to have overcome his initial shock enough to speak. His voice was heated, with anger spilling through, silencing everyone else briefly. “He’s a _royal_ – he can’t stay here!”  
  
Marie shifted, angling his face in Kanda’s direction. “Kanda, lower your voice, or you’ll wake him-“  
  
“You think I give a damn about waking him up? He needs to _leave_ ,” Kanda reiterated, as his eyes flashed angrily. “If he’s a royal, he can’t be trusted – you know that!”  
  
Tiedoll sighed, as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t say that he had expected anything less of a reaction from Kanda, although he _had_ hoped that Kanda might have been willing to listen. _‘I should have known…’_ Tiedoll thought, trying to think of how to best go about things.  
  
Looking in between Kanda and Tiedoll, Daisya spoke up. “Listen, Tiedoll, you know I’m usually the first one to disagree with Kanda all for the sake of pissing him off. But even I’m going to have to side with him on this one – that’s a pretty risky move.”  
  
Marie nodded. “We know it is. But given from how he sounded when he spoke, he was telling the truth – he doesn’t seem to mean us any harm.”  
  
Kanda snorted. “And you bought that crap? What excuse did he even give for being out here?”  
  
Tiedoll paused, before answering calmly. “Sheril Kamelot tried to have him assassinated – Alma has been in hiding ever since.”  
  
Alma. The name was one Kanda vaguely recalled, but Kanda didn’t have time to think about it, as his mind seemed to focus on another prominent name: _Kamelot._  
  
Kamelot. Sheril Kamelot. The name was scorching to Kanda’s ears, and seemed to set his blood on fire, venomous and filled with a deep loathing. Kanda’s fists clenched, as his jaw tightened. _‘That bastard…’_  
  
When Kanda didn’t respond, Tiedoll glanced between him and Daisya. “Alma’s a royal, but he’s also an accommodator. We shouldn’t just turn him out – at least not until we have a better hold on the situation.”  
  
Kanda remained rigid, and silent. Daisya instead spoke, eyebrow raised. “So…you’re suggesting he stay here?” He asked.  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “Yes, but I hadn’t wanted to say anything to Alma until I spoke to you two about it first. But, it wouldn’t be wise to send him off when he knows about us either-“  
  
Before Tiedoll could finish, Kanda abruptly turned, heading out the door. He slammed it behind him.  
  
The room fell into silence. Tiedoll exhaled. “Well, that went about as well as I could have hoped I suppose…”  
  
Marie turned his face in Tiedoll’s direction, expression soft. “It wasn’t likely Kanda would have taken well to this sort of thing.”  
  
Tiedoll realized that Marie was correct, however the man still couldn’t ignore that he did feel poorly regarding how Kanda had taken the news. Warily, Tiedoll then turned to Daisya. “How do you feel about it?”  
  
Daisya paused, then shrugged. “It’s risky, but I mean, if he’s running from other royals, he can’t be that bad, right?” Daisya noted, taking everything considerably well compared to Kanda. ”If anything, it’ll spice things up around here for sure. Don’t think it’d hurt to have a royal on our side either.”  
  
As Daisya finished speaking, Marie then spoke up, more so to Tiedoll. “Give it until morning with Kanda. Maybe he just needs time to process.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “Yes. Yes, perhaps that is it.”  
  


* * *

  
  
_It was so dark. Darker than anywhere Alma had ever been.  
  
He looked around. There were trees, and he realized he was in woods – alone, and in the middle of the night. Alma shivered. How had he ended up back here?  
  
Behind him, Alma heard something move.  
  
An icy chill rippled throughout Alma, and his breath seemed to still. Along his back he could feel a hand, touching him lightly and with long, spidery fingers-_  
  
Alma’s eyes opened. Sunlight was spilling in through the window, and when he turned over to look he could see the sky was a vibrant shade of blue: completely clear, and non-obscured.   Daylight.  
  
Not in the woods. Alma breathed a sigh of relief. His heart was racing a bit, but it was beginning to even out.  
  
For a few moments, Alma just remained there – lying on his side in bed, and staring out at the window. _‘It looks like a pretty day…’_  
  
Alma thought this, yet there was a part of him that struggled to enjoy the sight fully. Deep down, Alma couldn’t ignore that painful tug that seemed to be looming in the pit of his stomach as he remembered how far he was from the castle, and how the room he was in wasn’t even his own. This wasn’t to say Alma wasn’t thankful; he was more than appreciative of what Tiedoll and Marie had done for him by giving him food and shelter, and even a new shirt. However, Alma knew he couldn’t expect for them to just let him _stay_ there.  
  
Stomach flipping, Alma wondered what would happen when he _did_ have to leave.  
  
Quickly, Alma buried the thoughts before they could simmer too much longer, as he sat up and rolled out of bed. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but Alma didn’t want to sleep in; he had slept so much already, and by this point he actually was feeling more rested.  
  
Before Alma left the room, he paused when he felt something hard in his pocket. Reaching into he, he stiffened when he saw the small mirror that Road had given him.  
  
Alma’s insides twisted unpleasantly, and he placed the mirror on the dresser beside the bed. He would figure out what to do with it later.  
  
Heading downstairs, Alma didn’t see Tiedoll or Marie in the living area. He wondered if they could have been outside for a moment before hearing someone in the kitchen.  
  
However, when Alma went to look, he paused as he saw a new person that he did not recognize. The young man at the table had sharp angular features, and a small, thin frame; there was a rather impish look to his appearance, and his brown hair was somewhat spiky.  
  
Immediately, the young man took notice of Alma, and grinned. “Hey there.”  
  
Alma hesitated, looking a little uncertain; but, he recalled Tiedoll mentioning there were two other people who lived in the house. “Uh, hi,” Alma greeted, as he gave a small smile.  
  
The young man looked at Alma, with an observing gaze. “Alma, right?” He asked. “Tiedoll and Marie said you were staying here – I’m Daisya.”  
  
Upon hearing Tiedoll and Marie being mentioned, Alma felt himself begin to relax more. He nodded. “Ah, yeah,” Alma said, as he rubbed his arm. He did feel a tad awkward, given the situation; Daisya seemed amiable enough, but Alma wasn’t sure what Tiedoll and Marie might have shared with him.  
  
Daisya leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “Well, if you were looking for them I know Tiedoll went outside. He was talking to Kanda.”  
  
Alma blinked. “Who’s Kanda?”  
  
“He lives here too. He’s an exorcist like the rest of us,” Daisya responded, with a small shrug. “Just a head’s up: he’s sort of an asshole, so don’t take it too personally if he cold shoulders you.”  
  
Surprise filled Alma’s eyes, as he looked at Daisya. “You mean it’s not just Marie who’s an exorcist?” He asked, genuinely caught off guard by this. “But…if there’s that many of you, why aren’t you guys in a unit? Are you aligned with the council at all?”  
  
Daisya stared, then looked away. “Oh, well I guess Tiedoll didn’t tell you about that then…” Daisya murmured, more to himself than Alma. He sighed. “Well, secret’s out now. But no. We do our own thing. Don’t like to mess with all that political shit.”  
  
Before Alma could ask anymore questions, Daisya went on. “But, I hear you’re an accommodator. And a royal,” He said, as he grinned. “Gotta say I never thought I’d be sleeping under the same roof as one of your type.”  
  
Alma looked at Daisya a bit uncertainly, not sure how to take this. Before either he or Daisya could say anything again, the back door leading outside opened, and two people walked in.  
  
“Heavens, Kanda, it won’t be _that_ bad,” Tiedoll was saying in a rather admonishing tone, as he followed in after a young man with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail – Kanda, from what Alma was assuming.  
  
Kanda looked as though he were about to respond, but his dark blue eyes immediately landed on Alma, and he stopped. His expression then shifted into what could only be described as a glower.  
  
Alma stiffened. The look Kanda was sending was nothing short of scalding, and it had rather taken Alma aback. Had he done something wrong? Daisya had mentioned that Kanda might cold shoulder Alma, but the look went _way_ beyond cold shoulder.  
  
“Um…” Alma started to stammer, feeling uneasy and awkward. “Uh…hi…?”  
  
Without so much as uttering a word, Kanda sneered and walked off, stalking out of the kitchen.  
  
Tiedoll sighed, then looked over at where Alma and Daisya were seated. “Please don’t mind him – Kanda is a bit on the shy side,” Tiedoll said, before looking between the two of them. “I see you’ve met Daisya though.”  
  
Daisya grinned, then glanced over at Tiedoll. “Need me to check the seal marks?”  
  
“If you don’t mind,” Tiedoll said. “Marie was a bit concerned yesterday; he said something sounded off with the vibrations they typically make.”  
  
“I’ll make sure they’re working okay,” Daisya said, before giving a small wave to Alma. “Catch ya later.”  
  
Daisya left after that, leaving Alma alone with Tiedoll. Once Daisya had left through the back door, Alma turned to Tiedoll questioningly. “Seal marks…?”  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “Yes. You see, Daisya is from the Aegaeon Islands – just southwest of Ying. So he’s somewhat familiar with the protective magic more commonly used in that area,” Tiedoll explained. “The seal marks help create a border around the area so akuma can’t come in.”  
  
Alma was intrigued. “Really? That’s like what we had around the castle and the city to keep them out!” He spoke, rather enthralled by the connection. “Is it the same sort of seal? Does it work like what the CROWs use?”  
  
“Somewhat, though it differs a bit. I only know a little myself. Not enough to be an expert,” Tiedoll responded. He then paused for a moment, as he looked at Alma. A small smile was on his face. “Would you like me to show you around a bit outside?”  
  
Alma nodded, smiling eagerly. “That’d be great!”  
  
Tiedoll motioned for Alma to follow, and the prince did so. They headed out the back door, where Alma was greeted by a fresh breeze and the pleasant smell of earth. When he glanced over to the side, Alma was surprised to see a small garden that looked as though it had been recently attended to. It consisted mostly of herbs, but a few remaining flowers were present as well.  
  
Alma looked at it curiously. “That’s such a nice garden – is it yours?” He asked Tiedoll.  
  
Tiedoll shook his head. “No, it’s actually Kanda’s,” Tiedoll answered. Amusement glinted in his eyes when he saw the surprised look on Alma’s face. “I know, it’s shocking – but it does come in handy having someone with a green thumb around.”  
  
There was still a bit of a bewildered look on Alma’s face. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Kanda, given the rather unfriendly way the young man had acted already; having a green thumb wasn’t a quality Alma would have really attributed to him.  It seemed a bit too…nurturing a quality, for someone with such a harsh exterior. Alma would have more expected someone like Kanda to be some kind of soldier.  
  
_‘Or…an exorcist…’_ Alma thought, as he recalled what Daisya said earlier. With inquisitive eyes, Alma glanced over at Tiedoll. “Daisya…said you were all exorcists?” He started, sounding a bit unsure.  
  
Tiedoll shifted, so he was facing Alma more directly, eyes keen. Quickly, Alma added, “Ah, I don’t think he meant to say anything if he wasn’t supposed to! He…thought I knew.”  
  
“I see,” Tiedoll said, with a slight nod. His eyes moved over to the garden briefly. “We are.”  
  
Confusion filled Alma’s eyes. “But…why are you all here? Daisya said it was because you just do your own thing, but I thought exorcists were supposed to report to the council.   None of you are with any unit?”  
  
Tiedoll eyed Alma, before smiling softly. “You ask a lot of questions,” He observed, though his voice held no annoyance. “But no, we are on our own, and for our own reasons.”  
  
Alma could feel himself become more intrigued. He had heard of exorcists who might not come forward, but truthfully Alma had never thought it would be many, if any at all. He had just…always assumed that most accommodators understood the significance of reporting to the council. But, now that he had come across a whole group of exorcists, Alma felt somewhat lost, and as though he were missing some crucial piece of information.  
  
Something somewhere just seemed strange, but _what_?  
  
“You said you only synchronized recently,” Tiedoll commented, as he interrupted Alma’s thoughts. “So you’re still new to being an accommodator. It must be quite the adjustment.”  
  
Alma paused, then nodded. He glanced down at his arm; the sleeves of the shirt he wore extended only three-quarters of the way down, thus allowing the bracer to be visible. “Yeah…I actually didn’t activate it until I was out in the woods. So….I haven’t really used it much…”  
  
“Mm. I see,” Tiedoll said, as he looked at Alma thoughtfully.   “Tell me, Alma – what is it you plan to do?”  
  
Bewilderment filled Alma’s eyes as he looked at Tiedoll. Tiedoll then clarified. “When you left into the woods, did you have somewhere to go?”  
  
As Tiedoll asked this, Alma felt his stomach knot up. The fact that he would need to figure out what to do once he left Tiedoll and the other exorcists seemed to hammer into him, reminding Alma that this was temporary.  
  
It also reminded Alma that he had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to.  
  
Chest tight, Alma averted his gaze swiftly. “Um…” He started to say, though he faltered. All morning, Alma had tried to repress those darker feelings that kept threatening to surface – the ones that had so viciously attacked him when he was lost, and alone in the forest.  
  
A cold sensation seemed to wash over Alma, as he thought about having to be alone in the woods again.  
  
_Alone. He was alone, and as he looked around, he didn’t know where he was. It was dark, and it felt cold._  
  
Without realizing what he was doing, Alma gripped his wrist tightly, and for a moment he forgot he was even with anyone else. _‘It was so dark there…’  
  
_ “Alma?”  
  
The voice broke though, and Alma looked up, slightly startled. When he did, Alma saw that Tiedoll was looking at him in a somewhat concerned manner – he had even placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder without Alma realizing it. “Are you alright?” Tiedoll asked gently.  
  
Alma swallowed, and nodded. “Yes – sorry, I didn’t mean to just space out like that,” He apologized.  
  
Tiedoll said nothing at first, and instead watched Alma carefully. He noticed that despite Alma’s answer, the prince seemed deeply bothered by something – though, Tiedoll wasn’t one to push. Instead, he focused on something else. “The others and I did speak a bit earlier,” Tiedoll started to say, as he earned a slightly confused look from Alma. “If you’d like, you could stay here for the time being.”  
  
Immediately, Alma’s eyes widened. “You mean I could…really stay?” He asked, trying not to get too ahead of himself hope-wise. However, it was difficult not to; Alma had been dreading figuring out what to do next whenever he left, about where he would go, and how he would survive – but, if Tiedoll were offering to actually let him _live_ there…  
  
Tiedoll nodded.  “Yes,” He confirmed.  “It’s probably a bit different than what you’re used to, but if you need somewhere to stay-“  
  
“Yes!” Alma exclaimed, excitement and relief nearly brimming over.  “Yes, I’d love to stay!  That would be amazing!”

  
The exuberance was surprising, and caught Tiedoll a bit by surprise. He then laughed lightly. “Well, good – I’m glad it was an easy decision for you then,” He spoke. “I can show you the rest of the area. There are also some places that would be good if you want to work on training with your anti-akuma weapon as well.”  
  
Alma nodded, eagerness still showing. “Okay!” He said, feeling more hopeful than he had in a long time.  
  


* * *

  
  
The seal marks were not easily visible. They were discreet, and only noticeable when any threatening force – predominantly akuma – attempted to cross over the boundaries they formed. The markings were embedded deep into the soil, mostly concealed by the grass and the shadows from the trees. A normal person would easily miss them, not even noticing their existence.  
  
Daisya, however, knew where every single mark was by heart.  
  
It was partly by memory, and partly by sensing Daisya knew of the marks. It came with having been the one to put them in place himself; magic was a strange thing, and not as commonly used as it had been years ago. But, coming from a smaller community where magic was a bit more in practice, Daisya had at the very least picked up basic protection spells and casting. It had come in handy on more than one occasion, if anything.  
  
Kneeling down, Daisya placed a hand over one of the seal marks. As Tiedoll had indicated, the vibrational energy did feel somewhat weak – not that a regular person could have heard such. But Marie, who had such sensitive hearing, could have picked up on it faintly.  
  
Focusing, Daisya placed both hands over the deal, harnessing his energy to recharge it. It didn’t take particularly long to do this – but it took long enough that by the end of it Daisya knew he would be bored and ready to do something else.  
  
For a few more marks, Daisya repeated this process. By the fourth mark, he was itching to be done, or at least take some kind of break. Long tasks didn’t suit him well, even if they were fairly imperative.  
  
Daisya paused, contemplating on checking the next mark. He had just made the decision to get the whole ordeal over with, when the sound of something swishing through the air caught his attention.  
  
Daisya looked over. Just a bit of a way ahead, and within the boundaries of the other seal marks, he saw Kanda.  
  
Sharp eyes alert, Daisya watched Kanda for a moment. The other exorcist looked as though he were training, with a long sword in hand – his anti-akuma weapon, Mugen. A frown was upon Kanda’s face as he continued to train, and his eyes were filled with concentration. The energy in which Kanda moved also seemed somewhat agitated – something that was not exactly abnormal, but in this case more notable than usual.  
  
Daisya watched, eyes peering. Had Kanda not seemed so aggravated by something, he probably would have done something stupid to irritate the other exorcist and mess with him. But, Kanda was swinging that sword with a ferocity that made Daisya fear for any near by tree branches, and he didn’t exactly want to put himself at risk either.  
  
Somewhat stealthily, Daisya walked over, approaching Kanda. His steps were light by habit, but he didn’t make any effort to conceal his arrival. Surely, Kanda had noticed him when he appeared – though Kanda made no acknowledgement of Daisya, and continued training.  
  
Daisya observed with mild interest, as Kanda continued to ignore him. When he finally began to grow bored of the silence, he spoke up. “You know, I can practically _feel_ the aggression radiating off you,” Daisya commented languidly.  
  
Kanda came to a stop, and looked over at Daisya. The frown had not once left his face, marring it in irritability. “Did you need something?” Kanda asked. His tone was low, and seemed to lack any patience.  
  
Daisya stretched, and folded his arms back behind his head. “No,” He said, with an impish smile. “Just wanted to say hi to my bestie is all.”  
  
Kanda scoffed, then resumed his training, swinging the sword as he took different stances. Abruptly, Kanda swung, and sliced off a nearby tree branch.  
  
Daisya watched the branch fall, as he leaned against the trunk of another nearby tree. “That poor branch didn’t stand a chance,” Daisya commented, as he then looked back at Kanda. The impish smile had somewhat faded. “You really that pissed about that royal staying with us?”  
  
No response left Kanda’s lips, though his expression seemed to harden as he yet again ceased his movements. His indigo eyes briefly flickered over to Daisya, with a glacial look to them before he looked away.  
  
“Guess that’s a yes then,” Daisya confirmed, partly to himself.  
  
“It’s a mistake to have him here,” Kanda spoke icily, as he clutched the handle of his sword. “Damn royals…”  
  
Daisya didn’t speak immediately, as his expression had become oddly somber. The air was quiet though, and eventually he broke that silence. “I guess I’m lucky. I didn’t have to deal with them as much like you and the others did,” Daisya said, as his tone seemed to lose its lightheartedness. “Never really cared to deal with them either.”  
  
To this, Kanda was silent, and his eyes seemed to hold a distant gaze: dark, bitter, and angry.  
  
Daisya saw this, and sighed. “Look, it’s fucked up what happened. I get that,” He said. “But to be fair, it’s not like Alma guy is one of the royals who screwed you over…”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda sneered quietly. “Doesn’t mean he’d be any better. He’s been living with Sheril, and for all we know that bastard rubbed off on him.”  
  
Daisya shrugged, still leaning back against the tree. “Maybe. I mean, I’m not saying we should just trust him right away either,” Daisya clarified, as he looked over at Kanda somewhat warily. “I don’t know, but I’d just be wary of acting as though its his fault for what happened. You know how much that sort of thing sucks more than anyone.”  
  
Kanda turned, somewhat sharply. His eyes glared. “Don’t act like those situations are even _remotely_ similar-“  
  
“I didn’t say they were, so don’t attack me or anything,” Daisya spoke, as he pushed himself off the tree. “I was only putting things in perspective.”  
  
Hearing this, Kanda backed down. However, he didn’t appear all that appeased with Daisya’s rationale.  
  
Daisya’s eyes met Kanda’s. “Let’s just see how this goes. Tiedoll did have a point in that we shouldn’t just let him run loose anyways – better to let him stick around where we can keep an eye on him, you know?”  
  
Another scoff escaped Kanda, but he said nothing more.  
  


* * *

  
  
It didn’t take too long for Tiedoll to show Alma around the house and property. Outside, Tiedoll had made a point to let Alma know where the seal marks generally were, which extended a decent amount out from the house.  
  
“It helps to have a little more area for when anyone wants to train with their anti-akuma weapon; outside the seals, the innocence can attrack akuma, but this way there’s enough space to not worry about someone accidentally destroying anything,” Tiedoll explained, as he gave Alma a wry smile. “Daisya in particular is a bit notorious for that – he treats his weapon like a toy half the time.”  
  
“What’s Daisya’s innocence?” Alma asked, as he followed Tiedoll back into the backdoor of the house. “Does he use it a lot? Is it a parasitic type? That’s what I have, but I still don’t really know how to use it much.”  
  
As Alma spoke, he noticed Tiedoll pausing to look over at him, a hint of amusement in the man’s eyes. Alma felt his cheeks burn. “Ah, sorry – I’m talking a lot, aren’t I?”  
  
“Oh, don’t apologize. Being inquisitive can be a good thing. It keeps the mind active,” Tiedoll responded simply. “Daisya’s anti-akuma weapon is an equipment type – you’d actually be the only one with a parasitic type here. It’s not as common as the equipment ones.”  
  
“Really?” Alma asked, slightly surprised. Back at the castle, Suman and Klaud’s types had been parasitic, and Alma had thought that would have been the more common type – but maybe he had been mistaken.  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “Yes. They each have their pros and cons, but having a parasitic type does use quite a bit of energy. It’s likely why you were so exhausted when we found you.”  
  
As Tiedoll spoke, he went to get the washbasin, where Alma looked at him curiously. “What do you have to do with that?”  
  
“Just going to take it to refill the water.”  
  
“I can do it for you,” Alma offered.  
  
There was a somewhat childlike eagerness to the way Alma sounded, which caused Tiedoll to pause. “If you really want to,” Tiedoll said. “We just get water from the well in the back. The rope is a bit stubborn though, so it does have a tendency to get caught on the hook.”  
  
“That’s okay!” Alma chirped, as he smiled brightly. “I’m sure it won’t be that difficult.”  
  
Tiedoll handed over the washbasin, and Alma took it back outside.  He remembered seeing the well briefly when Tiedoll had shown him around; it was close by, somewhat old-looking and with ivy tendrils tracing up the side.  Alma found it quickly, placing the basin down so he could actually lower the bucket into the well that was hanging by a somewhat worn-out rope.  
  
Gently, Alma tugged as he lowered the bucket down into the water.  Once it had filled, he started to pull it back up.  
  
Then, the roped snagged.  
  
Alma frowned, as he tried to pull again.  “Come on, don’t be like that…” Alma murmured, as he tried to get the rope to move.  The snag was a bit more stubborn than Alma had anticipated though, and the bucket refused to come up.  
  
Sighing, Alma glanced down.  The bucket was still a bit far down, swishing a little as it knocked against the wall of the well.   _‘Great…’_ Alma thought, not sure how to get the rope unstuck.  How was it that it would be that challenging to use a _well_?  
  
Again, Alma took the rope and tugged.  He repeated the motion several additional times, before he stopped, as Alma tried to think of how to get the rope unstuck.  His mind came to a pause though, as not too far off he could see someone walking nearby.  The long ponytail immediately stood out, and Alma recognized the young man as Kanda.  
  
Alma hesitated.  Kanda didn’t seem to have noticed Alma, but Alma wondered if Kanda might be someone he could ask for help.  Since Kanda had lived with Tiedoll longer and in that house, surely he would have known how to deal with the stubborn rope, right?  
  
“Um, excuse me!” Alma called over.  
  
Kanda stopped walking, and his eyes landed on Alma sharply.  There was a frosty look to them, and it made Alma hesitate a little.  
  
Quickly, Alma tried to shake off the unease. He glanced up to where the rope was snagged on the hook, then back to Kanda uncertainly.  “Do you know how to get it unsnagged?  It…sort of got stuck.”  
  
Kanda stared in Alma’s direction coolly, before he broke his gaze away, sneering under his breath.  “You don’t even know how to use a well?” He asked, tone nothing short of condescending.  “Figures…”  
  
Alma floundered a little, not sure how to respond.  He didn’t exactly appreciate the way Kanda had replied to his request, and the tone had been rather patronizing.  “I  _know_ how to use a well,” Alma countered, before adding a bit more quietly, “I just…couldn’t get it to pull back up…”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda muttered, as he uncrossed his arms and walked over to where Alma was.  “Move.”  
  
The command was short, but still aggressive in nature.  A bit warily, Alma did so, though he didn’t let go of the rope.  
  
When Kanda saw this, he rolled his eyes and took the rope forcefully.  Swiftly, Kanda looped part of the rope over the hook, twisting it so he could pull the rest of it over the snag.  In just a few seconds the bucket was then pulled up, and Kanda placed it on the edge of the well.  
  
Without saying anything else, Kanda started to walk off.  
  
Alma watched, then quickly turned to dump the fresh water into the basin.  He picked it up, before hurrying to catch up with Kanda.  “Hey, wait!” Alma called.  
  
It was a bit of a struggle to catch up to Kanda.  The washbasin was heavy, and Alma had to be careful not to spill water everywhere; Kanda also didn’t seem inclined to stopping.   Alma soon did catch up, although he had to speed up his walking to keep up with Kanda’s brisk pace.  
  
“Ah, thanks – for helping,” Alma spoke, trying to be friendly.  He looked over at Kanda.  “It’s Kanda, right?  I know we didn’t get to talk much earlier.  My name’s-“  
  
“I don’t care what your name is,” Kanda responded harshly.  “And I only bothered to pull that bucket up because you would have broken the rope otherwise.”  
  
The words were abrasive, and again, Alma found that he was at a loss for how to respond.  Disheartened confusion flickered in his eyes; Alma just didn’t understand if it was something he had done to cause Kanda to act in such a way, or if this was just Kanda’s usual temperament.  
  
Alma wavered, a tiny frown returning to his face.  “It wasn’t like I was  _trying_  to break it,” He explained.  “And I just wanted to introduce myself, especially if we’re going to be living together-“  
  
Again, Kanda cut Alma off, this time whipping his face in Alma’s direction.  He glared at Alma icily.  “Don’t think that just because I agreed to you staying here for one second means I’m okay with it,” He spoke, voice low and cutting like a blade.  “I don’t care what your name is, or what Tiedoll and the others think.   _Don’t_  talk to me.”  
  
Alma stared, mouth agape.  He hadn’t expected such an acidic response, and the words were honestly startling to hear.  Closing his mouth, Alma tried to think of how to respond, but he was already feeling far more frustrated than he was prepared to be.    
  
While Alma was trying to collect himself, Kanda shoved passed him roughly, the action nearly causing Alma to spill water onto himself. Alma caught the washbasin just in time, and was able to steady it.  
  
Alma looked over at Kanda, scowling. Had Kanda _really_ needed to shove by Alma like that?  
  
“Why are you acting that way?” Alma asked, confused and flustered. “You can’t just push people around like that!”  
  
Kanda turned. “That’s real hypocritical considering how you _royals_ treat everyone else,” Kanda bit back. There was a venomous tone as he spoke, distasteful and scathing.  
  
Alma stilled for a moment before his expression dissolved into offense. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
Kanda snorted. “What do you think it means?” He snidely questioned, before he started walking off again. “Just stay out of my way, and try not to be such a problem while you’re here.”  
  
Alma hardly had a chance to even think of a comeback, because before he could even blink Kanda left. Silently, Alma clutched at the washbasin, while Kanda’s words seemed to echo in his ears.  
  
_“I don’t care what your name is, or what Tiedoll and the others think._ Don’t _talk to me.”_  
  
The words stung, and Alma exhaled. Just what had Alma even done to make Kanda _hate_ him already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND KANDA IS FINALLY HERE. As it only took...like a prologue, and ten chapters following. 8D
> 
> And Daisya is with him! I wanted to bring Daisya in, mainly because...I feel like Daisya doesn’t get enough attention in general? Personally, I love him, and have always liked the dynamic between him, Marie, Kanda, and Tiedoll. He’s a bit interesting here though, because while also being an exorcist Daisya is the only one who knows any kind of protective magic. Not an extensive amount, but I thought it would be an interesting route to go with his character. He’s not from one of the main kingdoms in this AU, as Tiedoll comments he’s from the Aegaeon Islands - which, is sort of a place in this AU that’s kind of small, and more secluded since it’s surrounded by water. Ying has probably had the most interaction with them in terms of trade, but aside from that, their community is more independent (as of now).
> 
> Aside from that, this chapter was more or less just focusing on bringing Kanda in, and giving Alma a chance to interact more with the others. Kanda obviously has had something happen to cause him to distrust (aka absolutely loathe and despite) the royals, and has already written Alma off as trouble (which is laughable, because we all know that yulma is endgame in this AU but ahaha THAT SLOWBURN IS ON THE WAY).
> 
> These two are off to a rough start though, so it’ll be fun to see how Alma and Kanda continue to interact as their relationship develops further on.
> 
> (Also, meh. I might have been low key thinking of the wishing well from the Disney Snow White when I wrote that well scene at the end, but sue me as I self-indulge with this fanfic. XD)
> 
> The next chapter will be a bit more fast-paced, and a bit more engaging (hopefully!). So I’ll be working to get that up by next weekend as well.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s been reading, and leaving feedback! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and have a great weekend!


	13. Entanglement, Entrapment

Alma didn’t really see much of Kanda the rest of the day. He was honestly glad; after their interaction outside, Alma had felt awkward and uncomfortable, not really certain as to what he had done to garner such distaste from Kanda. Was it really because he was a royal? Alma wasn’t sure; Kanda’s dislike had been potent, and it was hard for Alma _not_ to take it personally.  
  
No one else seemed to have a problem with Alma staying. Tiedoll had really made Alma feel welcome, being nothing but hospitable. Marie, Alma hadn’t interacted much with yet, but it was easy enough to be comfortable around him; Marie was so calming, and soft-spoken that Alma didn’t really have a reason to feel on edge around him. As for Daisya, he was a bit harder to pin down – but he seemed nice enough, and hadn’t been rude to Alma. Not like Kanda.  
  
So, it seemed that _Kanda_ was the only one who had a real issue with Alma.  
  
Alma sighed. _‘Don’t let it get to you,’_ He told himself, as he tried to focus on the current task at hand – which in this case, was peeling potatoes. It had seemed a simple enough task when Alma volunteered to help with making dinner, but oddly enough it required much more focus than the prince had anticipated.  
  
As Alma sliced off part of the potato skin, he nearly nicked his finger, having been cutting toward himself. He flinched a little, as the knife tip grazed his skin.  
  
Daisya looked over. “Dude, you’re supposed to cut _away_ from yourself,” He pointed out, with a slightly amused glint in his eyes. “You never peel potatoes before?”  
  
Somewhat sheepishly, Alma smiled. “Ah, no, not really…” He admitted, wondering if that sounded odd. Truthfully, Alma had never done domestic chores; he had seen people like Anna do it, and had watched the servants a few times. But, no one ever had really allowed for Alma to help – even on the few occasions that he had offered.  
  
Daisya paused, having been peeling as well. It had been his turn to make dinner, as apparently there was some sort of rotation schedule with responsibilities that Alma hadn’t quite learned yet. Since Alma was still learning, and new to doing such chores, he had been eager in wanting to help – and Daisya, having a somewhat lazy edge himself, had not at all been hesitant in accepting the offer.  
  
After a split second, Daisya continued, throwing some of his potatoes into a pot. “Guess that makes sense.   You probably didn’t have to worry about crap like this where you’re from.”  
  
Alma shrugged, and resumed his task. He knew that Daisya had been referring to his status as a royal, and frankly Alma wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Daisya seemed to bring it up a lot, and sometimes it made Alma feel awkward – especially after how Kanda had acted earlier. “I sort of always wanted to try something like this, actually,” Alma spoke, as he smiled slightly. “Probably sounds sort of silly.”  
  
As Alma looked over at Daisya, he could see that the other young man was going much faster. “Oh wow, you really are quick,” Alma noted, before looking at Daisya with inquisitive eyes.   It was a bit surprising to Alma that Daisya knew how to cook; for whatever reason, Alma just hadn’t thought Daisya the type to be super comfortable in a kitchen environment. “Where’d you learn to cook?”  
  
“Mom taught me,” Daisya said nonchalantly. “She and my old man had this shop they ran, and me being the designated first born got the pleasure of getting to cook for my siblings. Kind of a pain in the ass, but at least it ended up being useful.”  
  
Alma stared a bit with interest. He hadn’t expected Daisya to bring up his family, but now that the other young man had Alma couldn’t help his curiosity. “Oh, do you get to visit them ever?” Alma asked. He remembered Tiedoll mentioning that Daisya was from the Aegeon Islands, and that it was quite a distance away.  
  
“Eh, haven’t seen them in at least seven or eight years. I kind of lost track.”  
  
Surprise filled Alma’s eyes, and a part of him felt regretful for even asking. Daisya sounded oddly laid-back about the topic, but even with that in mind the discomfort in Alma was evident. “I’m…really sorry,” Alma apologized, somewhat awkwardly as he shifted his gaze away. “You must miss them.”  
  
Daisya responded with a casual shrug. “It’s not that big of a deal. I wanted to leave,” He answered, his response once more a bit surprising to Alma. “Didn’t think I could handle staying on the damn island forever, and I’m sure they’re doing okay.”  
  
Alma remained quiet. It was a bit strange of him to think of someone who would so easily be able to leave their home, and their family – but, Daisya really didn’t appear to have any regrets over the decision.  
  
Still. Alma couldn’t imagine doing something like that.  
  
Without warning, a heavy weight seemed to fall onto Alma’s shoulders, and he briefly found himself wondering about _his_ home back at the castle. It was about the time where he would have possibly been finishing up a late training session with Klaud, and then he would have had dinner with his mother, and…  
  
Unpleasantly, Sheril’s face flashed into Alma’s mind, and he fought the urge to shiver.  
  
Daisya looked over, having noticed that Alma had stopped all that he was doing. Eyebrow raised, he looked at the prince questioningly. “You need a break or something?”  
  
Alma returned to the present moment, having heard Daisya, and blinked. “What?” He asked, before he noticed that Daisya had only been taking note that Alma had stopped peeling the potatoes. “Oh! No, ah, sorry,” Alma said, as he went back to peeling, pushing any thoughts of his stepfather far away into the darkest corner of his mind.

* * *

  
  
It was beginning to get dark out. From the window, Kanda could see where the sun had already fallen beyond the treetops, paving the way for nightfall.   It was a shame, in a sense; the sky always was such a beautiful array of colors come dusk, yet for Kanda it always held a sense of foreboding. Akuma were always far more relentless at night, when humans were unsuspecting and fast asleep. People were more vulnerable then.  
  
It was likely a reason Kanda’s sleep was always light, and minimal. He didn’t sleep anymore than absolutely necessary to function.  
  
Crossing his arms, Kanda leaned back against the wall. He was outside, having opted to wait there to speak with Tiedoll and Marie. Normally, if they needed to talk it was a habit to meet in the living room or even kitchen – but Daisya was in there with that _royal_.  
  
_‘Alma,’_ Kanda recalled, as disdain laced his thoughts. Even though Alma hadn’t had gotten a chance to say his name, Kanda still remembered it from when Tiedoll had spoken about him the previous night.  
  
Kanda’s face twisted into mild disgust. He still thought it was a bad idea to let a royal stay there, even if he _was_ an accommodator. It was too much of a risk, and too dangerous – and hell, it wasn’t as though they could _trust_ Alma. Even if he did seem stupidly naïve and innocent.  
  
Kanda definitely didn’t trust him. He didn’t have any reason to do so.  
  
The door opened, and Kanda looked over. He could see Tiedoll come out, followed by Marie, who shut the door behind them.  
  
Tiedoll spotted Kanda. “I found Marie,” He said. “What is it you wanted to discuss?”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flickered between Tiedoll and Marie, but he didn’t move. He did take a small breath though, before speaking lowly. “Daisya and I were able to stop by that village you wanted us to check on.”  
  
Both Tiedoll and Marie became more alert upon hearing this. “You and Daisya were able to return rather quickly,” Tiedoll observed. His words held an edge of caution as he spoke. “Does this mean everything was alright?”  
  
Kanda paused, then shook his head. “No,” He responded. “Daisya and I spoke to one of the villagers briefly…and they said something has been terrorizing them at night. From the description they gave, it sounds like an akuma.”  
  
Confusion painted Marie’s features. “But why did you-“  
  
Frustration pulled at the corners of Kanda’s mouth, as he spoke. “Arcaian guards showed up.”  
  
Tiedoll looked shocked. “What? That village isn’t even technically across the border that leads into Arcaia.”  
  
Bitterly, Kanda sneered. “Yeah, well they apparently have leeway. Probably because there’s now a link between an Arcaian noble family and the royal one in Engelus…”  
  
The mood between the three of them was weighted, and somber. A silence fell between them.  
  
Eventually, Marie spoke. “Did the guards see you?” He asked, voice quiet.  
  
“No,” Kanda answered. “They didn’t see me, but they saw Daisya. One looked like they were going to approach him, but we got out of there pretty quickly.”  
  
Tiedoll glanced between Kanda and Marie. “I don’t imagine the guards will do much, even if they’re from Arcaia…” He commented pensively.   “Marie – you and I should go back in a few days. More than likely, those guards were doing some kind of patrol, and shouldn’t be there much longer.”  
  
Turning to Kanda, Tiedoll then added, “Kanda. You and Daisya should lie low for a while. If the guards are still there, you two showing up again would cause too much suspicion.”  
  
Kanda frowned. “You don’t think a few days is too soon for you though?”  
  
Tiedoll shook his head. “We’re no longer with a unit, but we still have a responsibility as exorcists. We need to do what we can, even if under these circumstances.”  
  
Frown remaining, Kanda nodded. He didn’t like the plan for several reasons, but he knew that Tiedoll was right – they did still have a responsibility as exorcists, and if innocent people were at risk, then they couldn’t sit back and be idle.  
  
Kanda just wished that he wasn’t the one who had to get stuck behind.  
  
“We should go inside,” Marie suggested. “It’s getting dark, and even with the seals we should be wary of talking too much outside at this time.”  
  
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Tiedoll agreed. He then changed the subject, as he spoke with a small smile, “Alma was helping Daisya with dinner. They’ll probably be done soon.”  
  
Hearing this, Kanda wanted to roll his eyes. “They’ll probably burn it…”  
  
“Kanda, be nice,” Tiedoll admonished in a somewhat fatherly way. “It’s good Alma is so eager to help.”  
  
“I’m not giving some prince a gold star for lifting a finger.”  
  
“Just give him a chance, Kanda,” Tiedoll spoke, before offering a small smile. “Maybe you would actually like him if you got to know him.”  
  
Kanda just glared at Tiedoll darkly.  
  
Tiedoll didn’t attempt to persuade Kanda further, and returned inside with Marie. Kanda followed.  
  
When Kanda entered the house, he immediately smelled smoke – then, he heard Daisya shouting from the kitchen.  
  
“Shit, put it _out_!”  
  
Instinct kicking in, Kanda booked it to the kitchen, moving faster than either Tiedoll and Marie. When he made it there, Kanda could see both Alma and Daisya in a panic, with Alma specifically trying to fan out a series of _very_ high flames coming from the stove.  
  
Cursing, Kanda grabbed the washbasin nearby – which fortunately, was filled with water. “Fucking _move_!” He shouted, before running up to the stove and dousing it in water.  
  
The flames went out, and more smoke filled the air. Tiedoll could be heard coughing. “Open the windows!”  
  
Marie was already doing so, while Kanda was checking to ensure the flames were entirely put out. In the background, Kanda could also hear Alma and Daisya.  
  
“I’m so sorry-“ Alma was starting to apologize, before Tiedoll had started to speak up.  
  
“Is everyone alright?”  
  
“Yeah, minus dinner,” Daisya answered. “I hope you all like scorched potatoes.”  
  
Kanda’s head whipped in Daisya’s direction, before his eyes briefly moved to Alma. There was a scowl on his face. “What the hell happened? You nearly burnt the damn house down!”  
  
Alma winced, and looked especially guilty; Daisya merely shrugged, and he eyed Alma with a mildly entertained look. “The heat _may_ have gotten cranked up a bit too high with that stove,” He responded, before looking at Alma. “But seriously, how high _did_ you turn it?”  
  
Face flushing, Alma looked down. “I…thought if I turned it up all the way it would cook faster,” He admitted, feeling absolutely _terrible_ about having caused a fire. “I’m really sorry…”  
  
“That’s alright. What’s important is no one was hurt,” Tiedoll spoke. He tried to offer Alma a reassuring smile. “We just may keep you away from the stove for a while until we show you more how to use it.”  
  
Kanda’s nerves seemed to flare, and he looked over at Tiedoll in agitation. “Next time he goes near it, there won’t _be_ a stove left.”  
  
Hearing this, Alma frowned, quickly becoming defensive. “I _said_ I was sorry-“  
  
Kanda cut him off, not caring what Alma had to say. At this point, Kanda appeared to have had it, and the incident with the stove was more or less the thing to set him off. “Do you royals even know what sorry means? Because I doubt it.”  
  
“Why do you keep acting like I’m so terrible because I’m a royal?” Alma snapped, still defensive, if not more.   Between the interaction that he had previously had with Kanda, and the way Kanda was acting now, Alma was just beyond being able to retain any patience. “You don’t even know me, and you keep acting like I’ve somehow personally wronged you!”  
  
Eyes flashing heatedly, Kanda glared over at Alma. “Yeah? I know you just showed up here with some sob story, and only seem to be concerned with saving your own ass.”  
  
“ _Excuse me_!?”  
  
“Both of you, that’s _enough_ ,” Tiedoll said, tone becoming firm as he attempted to cut in. However, neither Kanda nor Alma seemed to have been paying him any attention, as both were far too agitated already.  
  
“I’m not only concerned with looking out for myself!” Alma was arguing, completely _over_ how Kanda was treating him. “So stop judging me already!”  
  
“Seriously? Do you even _realize_ the position you’re putting us in if anyone finds you here?” Kanda snapped. “I don’t think you’ve taken one damn second to think about how anyone would be affected but yourself, and I’m willing to bet you did the same thing when you fucking ran away from wherever you came from like some _coward_.”  
  
At that moment, Alma faltered, and the current expression he had been wearing cracked. The anger that had been brimming fractured, and a noticeably _hurt_ look seemed to surface in Alma’s eyes.  
  
It almost made Kanda feel guilty – _almost_.  
  
Alma tried to recover quickly, doing what he could to mask any impact Kanda’s words had made – however, the hurt still lingered. “That isn’t true!” Alma shouted, unable to stop himself from raising his voice.  
  
“I said _that’s enough!_ ” Tiedoll interrupted, having to increase his own volume just to get Alma and Kanda to _stop_. The room fell quiet, and Tiedoll looked in-between them, exasperated. “There’s no need for _any_ of this – both of you need to calm down!”  
  
Kanda huffed quietly, but remained silent. He knew that things had already escalated more than he had really intended for, and the fact that Tiedoll had needed to intervene said more than enough.  
  
_‘What a mess…’_ Kanda thought, before moving his gaze back over to where Alma was.  
  
However, before Kanda could look at Alma for too long, the prince moved, quickly brushing passed Kanda as he headed outside. Kanda was able to catch a small glimpse of Alma’s expression, but it was a fleeting glance as the prince slammed the door behind him.  
  
A rather awkward silence seemed to fall in the kitchen after that.  
  
Daisya shifted, somewhat uneasily. His eyes shifted between Tiedoll and Kanda. “I’m…going to go do something. That doesn’t require me staying here,” He lamely said, before leaving the kitchen.  
  
Marie also hesitated, before adding, “I’ll go check on Alma.” He too then left, heading out the back door where Alma had disappeared to.  
  
Tiedoll just gave Kanda a disappointed look. “Well, I hope you’re happy now. Really, was that necessary?”  
  
Kanda’s expression was indignant. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true – it’s a damn issue having him here.”  
  
Tiedoll sighed as he shook his head. “Honestly,” He murmured, exasperation still looming. His face then raised, so he was meeting Kanda’s gaze. “You better have an apology ready for the next time you see him.”  
  
“ _What_? I don’t owe him an apology!”  
  
“Oh yes you do, so I’d advise you figure out what you want to say,” Tiedoll countered. His tone had yet to waver as he held his ground on the topic, and the usual mellowness to his demeanor had hardened somewhat, as disappointment yet again remained in his eyes. “I know you’re better than this.”  
  
Kanda broke eye contact at that point, averting his gaze in irritation.  
  
Tiedoll didn’t say anything more. He eyed Kanda for a moment, but then left, heading out of the kitchen and into the living room area.  
  
Once Tiedoll was gone, Kanda was left alone. And despite his vocalized resolve, Kanda found that for whatever reason, he couldn’t seem to forget the hurt expression that Alma had bore just before he had disappeared outside.  


* * *

  
  
Alma hadn’t been able to leave quickly enough. The fire incident, the tension, everything that Kanda had _said_ – it all burned in Alma’s mind, fresh and scathing.  
  
It hadn’t helped that Alma had been so easily baited by Kanda, either. Kanda had just somehow gotten under Alma’s skin so deeply that Alma hadn’t been able to help _but_ to argue back with him – which only had made the whole ordeal even more of a scene. It was really embarrassing, to be honest; Alma had hardly been living with these people for hardly any time at all, and he had already nearly burnt down the kitchen _and_ made enemies with one of the occupants.  
  
When Alma thought about it, a part of him was worried. Maybe he _was_ just causing them trouble by being there. Lately it seemed that was all Alma was capable of doing: causing trouble. Making things difficult for everyone…  
  
Taking a small breath, Alma wrapped his arms around his knees. He had found a tree not too far away, and sat down at the base of it. It was already dark, but Alma had remembered where the seal marks were that Tiedoll had shown him – that gave him some comfort if any. At least nothing would bother him where he was.  
  
Except Kanda’s words. Those were still bothering Alma, and wouldn’t leave him alone.  
  
What did Kanda know though? He didn’t know Alma, and had no right to say such things to him. It wasn’t as though Kanda even understood what had happened either – it certainly wasn’t as though Alma had _wanted_ to leave. It wasn’t as though Alma had _wanted_ to run away.  
  
Alma hadn’t wanted any of this.  
  
Faintly, Alma could hear someone approach where he was. He tensed a bit, but when Alma turned he saw it was only Marie.  
  
“Would it be alright if I joined you?” Marie asked, face angled in Alma’s direction.  
  
Alma hesitated, then nodded. However, he quickly remembered Marie wouldn’t be able to see, so he spoke. “Ah…yeah…”  
  
Marie sat down next to Alma – not too close, but close enough that they could have conversed with ease if they wanted. Marie was quiet though, and Alma really wasn’t even sure what to say then.  
  
“It’s getting colder out at nights,” Marie commented softly. “You shouldn’t stay out too long. You could get sick.”  
  
Alma looked away, feeling oddly lousy given how nice Marie was being to him. “It’s…it’s fine…” Alma responded, though on the inside he felt anything but, and his voice trembled a bit. It was almost as though something deep down were beginning to crumble, and Alma was fearful his composure might unexpectedly crack again. He was barely keeping himself together as it was.  
  
Alma inhaled somewhat shakily, then tried to speak. His words came out uneasily though, and were hardly audible. “I’m sorry I almost burnt your guys’ house down…”  
  
Marie paused, then shifted his face so it was facing Alma’s direction. “That’s alright,” He said, while adding with a faint smile, “At least you didn’t do what Daisya did. Last winter he accidentally shattered all of the windows with his anti-akuma weapon.”  
  
Alma remained silent. In any other circumstance, he probably would have asked about what had happened, or at the very least found a trace of amusement in the story. But, Alma was too weighed down, and could just barely manage to appreciate Marie’s attempt to ease how he felt.  
  
“Oh…” Alma said, though he found himself unable to say more, as he instead continued to stew over what Kanda had said earlier.  
  
Face becoming more serious again, Marie kept his focus on Alma. Although he couldn’t exactly see the prince’s expression, he could determine all he needed to by how Alma sounded. “I’m sorry about what Kanda said. A lot of his anger really wasn’t meant to be directed at you,” Marie explained. “He hasn’t had a good experience dealing with royals in the past.”  
  
Alma rested his chin on his kneecaps, as he listened to Marie. However, the reasoning for the way Kanda had acted didn’t really help Alma in any way; if anything, it only made him feel worse, given that he really _did_ seem to be causing some kind of issue.  
  
Alma sighed. “I don’t want to cause any trouble by staying here…” He admitted quietly. It was difficult for Alma to say such, but it was true; with the exception of Kanda, everyone else had been nice. The last thing Alma wanted to do was to cause a disruption.  
  
Marie paused, before responding to Alma. “There’s always going to be trouble in with the lives we’ve fallen into,” He answered. “Tiedoll wouldn’t have suggested you stay here if he thought you were trouble for us.”  
  
Turning his face toward Marie, Alma opened his mouth to speak – but no words seemed to come forward, and he closed it, eyes downcast.  
  
A few seconds passed before Marie spoke again, words gentle. “Don’t stay out too much longer. Even with the seals, we need to be careful when it’s this dark out.”  
  
With that, Marie stood, and left Alma alone.  
  
Alma shifted a bit, but didn’t move from his spot. He continued to keep his arms wrapped around his legs, as he stared somewhat contemplatively into the darkened woods ahead of him.  
  
Alma supposed it _had_ been a little comforting to hear Marie out; the man had an oddly tranquil air about him, and a surprising amount of Alma’s distress had lessened. Not all of it, of course – Alma was still upset, and uncertain. The reassurance Marie had attempted to give had only been able to help so much, and despite the man’s words Alma _still_ felt uneasy.  
  
A sigh escaped Alma, as he remained outside a while longer. He wished he had some other option – something that wouldn’t cause conflict, or would have been at least a _little_ easier than what he had been given.  
  
Alma looked up. Night had taken over by this point, and his surroundings were dark. He wouldn’t get much done at that moment, and whatever Alma decided to do, it wasn’t as though he would be able to do it that second.  
  
_‘Maybe I should just leave in the morning…’_ Alma thought, though the notion left him feeling cold and nauseated. He once more buried his face into his knees. _‘I’m…sure I could figure something out…’_  
  
“Help!”  
  
Alma jolted, lifting his face. Confused, he looked forward. Had someone just called for help?  
  
“Please – someone help me!”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened. Someone _was_ calling for help – but why were they all the way out in the woods?  
  
Alma glanced back in the direction of the house. He wondered if perhaps he should run to get Tiedoll or someone to ask for help, but the voice shouted again, desperate and in a panic.  
  
“Someone help!”  
  
_‘There might not be enough time,’_ Alma realized, as he bit the inside of his cheek. He knew the voice was coming from beyond the seal marks, but it couldn’t have been that far, could it? If someone was in trouble, Alma didn’t want to risk them getting hurt only because he spent extra time to get someone.  
  
Glancing at his left forearm, Alma remembered the innocence he had. He had only activated it twice, but he could again if he needed to.  
  
“Please _help!”_  
  
The desperate plea broke through Alma’s thoughts, and without any more of a delay he stood, and ran in the direction of the voice, and bypassed the seal marks  
  
Hurrying through the trees, Alma looked around, frantically trying to find the source of the voice. However, it was dark, and it wasn’t easy to see with how dense and twisted the trees were. “Hello?” Alma called. “Hello, is someone there!?”  
  
“This way!” The voice screamed. “Please, I’m this way!”  
  
Determining which direction to go in, Alma ran. Soon, he could make out someone ahead through the darkness – but they were on the ground, and wrapped up in something that Alma couldn’t make out.  
  
Running over to them, Alma knelt down. He was surprised to see it was an older woman, frail looking and with spotted, wrinkled skin. But what was even stranger was what was covering her: something like silver thread, spun around her and keeping her from moving.  
  
Quickly, Alma tried to untangle the thread off of the old woman. “Hold on – I’ll get you out!” He reassured her, though it was a more difficult task than he had anticipated. The thread had a strange texture, and was _strong_ ; but, after a few minutes Alma had pulled them loose enough that the old woman could move.  
  
Alma carefully tried to help the woman sit up. “Are you hurt?” He asked in concern.  
  
The old woman shook her head, as she attempted to steady herself. “No…no I’m alright now,” She responded hoarsely. “Thank you – I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t had found me.”  
  
Alma looked around, then back to the old woman. “What happened? Did something attack you?”  
  
Hesitating, the old woman answered. “I…don’t know. I can’t remember I’m afraid.”  
  
Eyes sympathetic, Alma felt a sudden urge to comfort her. He couldn’t imagine how frightening the experience must have been, given what happened. “That must have been so scary for you…”  
  
The old woman looked at Alma, and her dark, somewhat slanted eyes seemed to glint in the darkness. “You’re such a kind young man,” She observed. “Would you mind helping me over to that tree? If I could only rest against it for a moment…”  
  
Alma nodded. “Yes, of course,” He spoke, as he helped the old woman stand up.  
  
The old woman took Alma’s arm as support. Instantly, Alma could feel how cold her leathery skin was. He had to suppress a shiver. “You…feel really cold,” Alma commented, as he looked at her worriedly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”  
  
The old woman smiled, as she continued to hold onto Alma’s arm. “Yes, I’ll be just fine once I rest for a short spell.”  
  
Alma felt a bit unsure, but he went along with the old woman’s reasoning. “Okay…” He said, as he helped the woman to where the tree was. As he did this, Alma posed an innocent question. “So…where were you going? There are…not really any pathways out here or a road…”  
  
Actually, when Alma thought about it, where could the old woman have even come from? Hadn’t Tiedoll said that the nearest village was nearly a day and a half away, if not two? It was a far trek, and would be highly strenuous for someone older.  
  
Humming to herself quietly, the old woman didn’t answer Alma – which was strange. Alma hadn’t thought she seemed to have any trouble with hearing, but perhaps she had somehow missed his question? Regardless, Alma was beginning to feel somewhat anxious, although he couldn’t really understand why.  
  
They got to the tree, where Alma made a move to help the old woman sit down. As he did this, the woman took a hold of his left hand, where she eyed the innocence on his arm. “That’s a lovely bracer you have,” She complimented. “Are you an archer?”  
  
Alma stiffened a little. “Um, sort of,” He answered, as he broke eye contact with the woman. Her eyes were so dark and sharp-looking that they were beginning to make Alma uncomfortable.  
  
The old woman made no effort to let go of Alma’s wrist. If anything, her grip seemed to tighten. “It’s really very nice,” The old woman continued to say, voice cool. “It almost reminds me of innocence…”  
  
As soon as the words left her lips, an alarm seemed to ring somewhere in Alma’s head. He tried to tug his wrist out of her grasp – a task that for whatever reason was _far_ more difficult than it should have been. “Let go,” Alma said, trying to remain calm despite the unease that trickled into his voice.  
  
“You don’t want to stay? And here I thought you would want to keep a poor old woman company,” The woman said.  
  
Again, Alma tried to move. However, the old woman suddenly threw his hand back against the trunk of the tree, and Alma felt something threadlike and sticky come out of the base of her palm. The substance then extended, wrapping around Alma’s left wrist and covering part of the bracer.  
  
Alma struggled, but found himself trapped as the threads kept his wrist pinned against the tree. He turned to the old woman. “What are you doing!?”  
  
The old woman remained still, though her eyes still gleamed like the eyes of a reaper. Her skin seemed to have shifted to ashen gray, dead-looking and flaky. Without any warning, the skin then began to crumble away like some decaying exoskeleton, and the old woman’s form shifted as something else emerged from within.  
  
Alma could feel himself freeze, as he stared in complete shock and horror at the sight of whatever it was before him. The creature’s face was no longer that of an old woman, but a woman who was more youthful – possibly even beautiful had she not had the horrid, deformed characteristics marring her face. Her eyes were dark, and without pupils or irses, and above each eye were three smaller eyes tracing up the sides of her forehead. Her limbs had also multiplied, with the woman having two arms, and then three additional, arachnid-like leg appendages sprouting from each side.  
  
_‘S-She’s an akuma!’_ Alma realized, even more terrified by the fact that it was like some, revolting _spider_ akuma of all things.  
  
The akuma smiled, with two prominent fangs showing. “There’s always at least one human stupid enough to fall for that little charade,” It spoke. “And this time I actually caught an exorcist – what fun for me.”  
  
Alma tried to pull his wrist again, but it wouldn’t budge.   He could still see some of the bracer was visible though, and he quickly tried to activate it. “Innocence acitv-umph!”  
  
Before he could even finish the command, the akuma had shot out more threads, this time covering Alma’s mouth so he couldn’t speak.  The akuma then released several more threads, locking down Alma’s other arm, as well as his legs. Alma tried to shout, but the sound came out muffled, and his efforts to move were in vain.  
  
The akuma came close to Alma, its horrific eyes peering into his. “You didn’t think I’d let you activate your anti-akuma weapon, did you?” The akuma taunted, as it moved one of its spider legs to trace the side of Alma’s face. “Such a slow creature. I’ll take my time with you – maybe I’ll just cocoon you into a web, and watch you suffocate.”  
  
More muffles came in response, but it was no use.  
  
At this rate, no one would hear Alma’s screams.

* * *

  
  
Kanda frowned, as he leaned against the tree. A few moments ago, he had stepped outside to get some fresh air. The events from earlier that evening had been annoyingly taxing, and given how tense the atmosphere had become in the house Kanda had just needed to step out. He had been rather relieved not to see the prince anywhere; Kanda hadn’t really wanted to run into Alma, and risk some other explosive interaction too soon.  
  
That was what Kanda told himself – that he just didn’t feel up to another confrontation. It wasn’t because Kanda felt guilty or anything. No – that wasn’t the reason Kanda had wanted to avoid Alma _at all._  
  
Kanda scoffed quietly under his breath, as he thought back to how Tiedoll had gotten onto him about making sure he would be ready to apologize to Alma when he next saw him – as if Kanda actually _owed_ the royal something. Kanda actually felt annoyed with the whole ordeal; why was it Tiedoll and everyone else seemed to be taking sides with Alma?  
  
_‘He’s just a damn royal…’_ Kanda thought, as he crinkled his nose in disgust. God, Kanda knew what royals were like. He knew how deceitful and self-serving they could be, and how quickly they were to turn on exorcists…  
  
_…They wouldn’t listen. It didn’t matter what he said. It didn’t matter what reason he gave. They weren’t listening to him.  
  
“I didn’t do it – I didn’t fucking _ do anything! _”  
  
Why wouldn’t they listen?   Had they really thought that he would have done such a terrible thing? Had they really thought that he would have…_  
  
Before the memory could entirely resurface, Kanda quickly shoved it down, burying it deeply into the recess of his mind. Fuck memories. _Fuck_ royals. Kanda wasn’t there to serve them anymore – he was beyond that point in his life.  
  
Yet, here he was. Having to deal with another one again.  
  
Irritation tickled at Kanda. The prince was definitely annoying, even if he wasn’t quite like the royals Kanda had dealt with before. Alma was just so blindingly naïve, and clearly hadn’t done much for himself; he didn’t seem all that used to criticism either, which was gratingly apparent given how _sensitive_ he seemed to be.  
  
Abruptly, Kanda found himself recalling the way Alma had looked when leaving earlier. It had only been a swift glance, but Kanda hadn’t missed how misty Alma’s eyes looked, as though the prince might have broken down right then and there.  
  
Shit. Well it wasn’t _Kanda’s_ fault that Alma was so sensitive.  
  
Uncrossing his arms, Kanda pushed back from the tree.   He was probably thinking too much; already, Kanda was becoming annoyed with how much the prince seemed to be clouding his mind-  
  
“Please – someone help me!”  
  
Looking over, Kanda’s eyes became alert. The voice had been faint, but Kanda knew he had heard something – that he had heard someone call for help.  
  
“Someone help!”  
  
A frown appeared. Kanda gripped the handle of his sword – his anti-akuma weapon. He immediately felt his guard raise, wary of the voice and where it was coming from. Could it have been someone actually crying for help? Perhaps, but Kanda found himself skeptical. The woods were so dangerous that it was a rarity anyone made it through them.  
  
In fact, Alma had probably been one of the first people any of them had found not to have already been dead.  
  
Still – there was a part of Kanda that, annoying as it was, knew he couldn’t walk away. No, Kanda had to at least check.  
  
Warily, Kanda activated his innocence, and quickly went to seek out where the voice had been coming from.

* * *

  
  
Alma was struggling. He couldn’t move, and the akuma had by now wrapped him more tightly against the trunk of the tree, further trapping Alma as it worked to cocoon him in. Muffled, incoherent noises escaped Alma – the closest he could get to shouting for help, though the attempts weren’t doing much of anything at this point.  
  
If anything, the attempts to make any noise were only draining Alma’s energy more. It was already becoming difficult to breathe; the akuma had wrapped the web-like threads around Alma so tightly that they were constricting his ribs and chest, and given his mouth was covered it wasn’t enough to use only his nose to get any oxygen. Alma could feel himself becoming more lightheaded, and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he passed out.  
  
_‘I…I have to figure something out though….!’_ Alma thought, as he desperately tried to think of what he could do. Unfortunately, Alma didn’t have any real options; he couldn’t activate his innocence given the position he was in, and the prospect of someone finding him before the akuma killed him seemed…unlikely.  
  
Essentially, Alma was screwed.  
  
The akuma, who had been continuing to slowly wrap Alma up, paused when it saw that he was still struggling. “You’re only wasting your breath, exorcist,” The creature warned teasingly. “But if you’d rather wear yourself out more quickly, I won’t stop you. Though it may take away some of the fun for me.”  
  
Alma glared, then shouted something. It came out in an angry muffle.  
  
Smiling, the akuma opened its mouth to say something, teeth sharp and fangs visible. However, the smile faded, and she turned its head, looking in another direction.  
  
After a second, the akuma glanced back at Alma, smile returning. “Looks like I get to have seconds tonight,” It said. Then, without any further explanation, it climbed up the tree, and into the higher branches, disappearing into the darkness.  
  
Alma was confused, and looked around. What had the akuma meant by that?  
  
Waiting, Alma continued to look around somewhat anxiously. He could hear what sounded like someone walking nearby though, and Alma tried to move to the best of his ability to see.  
  
A few seconds later, Alma spotted Kanda just a bit away. The other exorcist was looking around, and hadn’t seen Alma yet.  
  
Alma tried screaming, which again came out in muffles. Frustrated, he attempted to be louder.  
  
Kanda looked, having heard _something_. A frown was on his face, until he finally happened to glance over, and noticed Alma.  
  
Kanda’s eyes widened, and he ran over to where Alma was. His shock then quickly melted into some kind of combination of aggravation and bewilderment as he scowled at the prince. “What the _fuck_ happened to you?”  
  
Irritation flickered in Alma’s eyes. Seriously? Alma was trapped and cocooned against a tree, and Kanda was picking _now_ to be a jerk? Alma responded with an irritated muffle.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell…” He grumbled, before taking his sword. “Stop squirming – I’ll cut you out.”  
  
The annoyance in Alma’s eyes shifted into relief, but only for a small second. He then remembered what the akuma had said, and how it had crawled up high somewhere – which meant it was likely watching them.  
  
Panic beginning to rise, Alma tried to warn Kanda, but his words were smothered and incoherent.  
  
Kanda paused, having been attempting to cut away the threads. It was taking longer, even with his innocence, as he had only just started to cut through them. “I _said_ stop squirming,” Kanda snapped, not seeming to realize that Alma was trying to _warn_ him about something.  
  
Alma didn’t stop though – except for when he could see something crawling down behind Kanda.  
  
Eyes widening, Alma started to panic and squirm even more.  
  
“What the hell is with you?” Kanda asked in annoyance, as he tried to work around Alma’s movement. By this point, Kanda had finally managed to cut through the threads pinning Alma’s right side, and Alma could move his one arm.  
  
Alma didn’t wait; once his right arm was free he tore what he could of the thread from his mouth, and he all but screamed in Kanda’s face. “Kanda, _behind you_!”  
  
The akuma attacked, and Kanda turned, just barely managing to block the strike with his sword. Kanda then struck a second time, causing the akuma to pull back a bit.  
  
Alma watched as Kanda continued to fend off the akuma. As they were both preoccupied, Alma shifted, and tried to pull the remaining threads off of his left arm. Fortunately, Kanda had managed to loosen the majority of what had been left, which gave Alma more leeway as attempted to free himself.  
  
Or, at least his left arm. If Alma could do that much, he would be able to activate his innocence.  
  
Kanda struck again, using his activated anti-akuma weapon to throw an attack. The akuma hissed as it again reeled back, but not before taking another strike at Kanda with one of the spidery legs.  
  
Kanda dodged, but winced as it grazed his torso; the legs had some kind of fibers on them, which felt sharp, and stung. Kanda tried to ignore it as he continued fighting.  
  
_‘Come on, come on,’_ Alma thought, as he was still pulling the remains of the threads off of himself. Finally, he had made enough progress though, and was able to remove his left arm. His left leg was still stuck, but Alma could work with that.  
  
“Activate!” Alma shouted, and just as the last time the bow formed. Quickly, Alma did what he could to position himself so he could then aim, as he focused in on where Kanda and the akuma were.  
  
It would be a difficult shot; the akuma was moving fast, as was Kanda. Alma would have to be careful if he didn’t want to accidentally shoot the wrong target.  
  
Eventually, Alma had a clear shot, and focused. He pulled back the string, and released it as an arrow materialized, and managed to hit one of the akuma’s legs, causing it to hiss and shriek. Alma didn’t wait for any other reaction though, and quickly aimed, shooting another leg.  
  
While the akuma was reeling, Kanda ran back over to Alma, and helped to cut the remains of the threads off of Alma’s left leg, freeing him entirely. “Go back to where the others are!” Kanda shouted.  
  
Alma stared, totally shocked. “What!? And _leave_ you here?” He asked, not sure what the hell Kanda was even thinking.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ll take care of it – just go!”  
  
Kanda didn’t spend anymore time arguing after that, as he went back to fighting the akuma just as it was recovering.  
  
Alma watched, momentarily at a loss for what to do. Kanda had seemed adamant about Alma leaving. Maybe Kanda just thought Alma would be in the way if he stayed – Alma wasn’t sure. He wasn’t fully trained, and had hardly used his anti-akuma weapon. So, it wasn’t like Alma really _knew_ what he was doing.  
  
Except…  
  
_“Damn it, Alma,_ just go _!”_  
  
All too vividly, Alma could recall the words that Suman had last shouted at him. To go. To run. And that was what Alma had done – he had run away.  
  
But what if Alma hadn’t had done that? What if he had stayed?  
  
Earlier, Kanda had accused Alma of being a coward, and just looking out for himself. The words had hurt, and Alma had hated hearing them. But when he thought about it, had Kanda actually been _wrong_ …?  
  
There was the sound of a sword coming down, and the akuma’s hisses could be heard. Alma snapped out of his daze, just in time to see Kanda – clearly tired, and pushing himself – as he continued to fight the akuma.  
  
Inside, something seemed to snap, and Alma didn’t think – he only acted.  
  
Taking the bow, Alma quickly chose a focal point; from where he was, he actually had a clear shot of the akuma’s face. Alma shot, doing so before he could accidentally overthink anything, and the arrow hit one of the akuma’s eyes. Although the arrow had only gotten one, it seemed to be one of the akuma’s main two, and it screeched, completely distracted by the unanticipated attack.  
  
As the akuma’s attention was diverted, Kanda turned. There was a startled look in his eyes before he scowled. “I told you I could handle it!”  
  
Alma’s mouth dropped, before he huffed into a frown. “Just let me help, okay!?”  
  
Kanda stared only for a second, then responded. “Just stay out of my way,” He said, before re-focusing on the akuma.  
  
_‘Unbelievable,’_ Alma thought, not sure how someone could be so _pigheaded_.  
  
The akuma, having recovered, made an attack on Kanda considering he was closest. As before, Kanda continued to hold his ground, slashing at the akuma where he could as he attempted to weaken it. However, just before Kanda could do anymore damage – and possible finish it off – the spider akuma shot out several, web-like threads as it locked down his legs.  
  
Kanda cursed, as he tried to cut himself loose.  
  
The akuma moved in, and Alma fired again. The shot missed by a hair, though it was enough to distract the akuma from harming Kanda any further.  
  
Rushing, Alma tried again, and this time shot for the akuma’s side, hitting it directly. _‘Got it!’_  
  
Something about where Alma hit must have been a particularly weak spot, because the akuma started to wither. Kanda, who had just finished cutting himself free, then charged, slashing the akuma dead center.  
  
The blow seemed to have been the final one to do the creature in, as it fell to the ground, twitching and withering as it hissed compulsively. It then began to decay, as a thick smoke started to seep out from the wounds, clouding the air with some kind of smog.  
  
Alma coughed. He didn’t know what the fumes were, but they were making it hard to see, and were making Alma begin to feel a little dizzy. Not terribly so, but enough to make Alma want out of the area as quickly as possible. “Kanda?” Alma called, as he tried to spot where the other exorcist was.  
  
Not too far off, Alma could hear Kanda cough, though he received no other response. There was a _thud_ sound though, as though something – or someone – had collapsed.  
  
Alma looked around. The smoke was beginning to clear just enough so Alma could see again, and he soon saw where Kanda was – and his eyes widened when he saw that Kanda was on the ground, unconscious.  
  
Alma ran over to Kanda, and shook him. “Kanda? Kanda, wake up!”    
  
There was no response, and Alma was quickly growing worried. Why wasn’t Kanda responding to him?  
  
Hurriedly, Alma checked Kanda’s breathing, It seemed shallow and irregular.  
  
_‘Crap,’_ Alma thought, not sure what to do at that moment. He glanced around, and saw the akuma’s corpse had nearly dissolved by this point into ashes.  
  
Turning back to Kanda, Alma tried to lift him, throwing one of Kanda’s arms over his shoulder so he could try to help move the unconscious exorcist along. It was a bit difficult, but they were close to the same height, and Alma knew he’d manage just fine.  
  
_‘Please don’t die on me,’_ Alma silently begged, as he tried to get Kanda back to the house as quickly as possible, and before anything else could attack them.  
  
Behind, the akuma corpse remained. In ashes, and soon to be forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t trust strangers in the woods. Especially demon-infested ones. (I really hate spiders by the way; in real life I cry if I see pictures of them, and I really hadn’t planned on making the akuma spider-like; but I guess it just fit in my head?).
> 
> But yeah. I was going to post this chapter tomorrow, but since I’m doing a lot at work today, I’ll probably be insanely braindead. So this is getting posted a day earlier than planned. In general, I’m pretty happy with how this chapter turned out. Action scenes aren’t really easy for me, I’m starting to feel more comfortable writing them (and it likely helped that at the end there’s this added tension/awkwardness between Kanda and Alma – like, Kanda really can’t accept any help, can he?).
> 
> Speaking of Kanda – man. MAN. What an ass. XD In all seriousness, as much as I love Kanda as a character, he’s probably one of the most frustrating people to write (I mean, I’m plotting this damn AU so I know why he’s that crappy, but STILL WHAT A PAIN XD). If anything, the whole akuma fight at the end was /sort of/ a way to get that obnoxious wall to start crumbling a bit more around Alma. I guess because Kanda is so stuck on his own pre-judgment that it would take something a bit more extreme to dilute it?
> 
> Plus, I felt like the fight was good for Alma. He’s been conflict-avoidant for a while now (well, his whole life really), so it was nice to give him a moment where he decides not to run from something. Even if it was life-threatening.
> 
> I’m pretty sure I had more things I wanted to insert note-wise, but ah. The brain deadness is kicking in, and I’m about to go into work for close to ten hours to suffer. XD (Though the only thing I can think to mention is the title - I hate deciding titles. It’s a pain, but I guess this one worked on multiple levels - not just for Alma literally getting entangled in those threads, but also just the mess that all the characters are dealing with.)
> 
> Happy Thursday! <3


	14. The Aftermath

Alma rushed to get back to the house as quickly as possible, as he hauled Kanda along. _‘Just a little farther,’_ Alma thought, as he bit the inside of his cheek. As he moved, Alma glanced over at Kanda; the other exorcist was still unconscious, and his breathing was shallow.  
  
It worried Alma. Kanda hadn’t woken up, and wasn’t responding to anything – what was wrong with him? Alma hadn’t seen any blood, and he didn’t _think_ that Kanda had been wounded. But, perhaps Alma had missed something. He didn’t know, but what Alma did know was that he needed to get to Tiedoll and the others, and _fast_.  
  
Eventually, the two of them passed the seal marks, and Alma could see the house up ahead. One of the windows was lit, so he knew that someone was still awake. Alma tried to move even faster, and as soon as he made it to the door, Alma quickly shoved it open.  
  
“Tiedoll!” Alma shouted, voice frantic.  
  
Footsteps could be heard, as someone came down the stairs. Alma looked to see that it was Tiedoll, with Marie not far behind him.  
  
Tiedoll’s eyes filled with alarm, as he saw Alma trying to hold Kanda up, and the man rushed over. “What happened!?” Tiedoll asked.  
  
Alma attempted to answer, though his body still felt as though it were pumping with adrenaline; his thoughts were still spinning. As the prince spoke, his voice seemed to tremor. “I…there was an a-akuma, and it attacked us-“  
  
“What? Where?” Tiedoll asked, though Alma faltered in a response.  
  
As Alma strained to come up with an answer, Marie approached them. Tiedoll turned to the larger man. “Marie – we need to get Kanda upstairs.”  
  
Marie nodded, then helped to take Kanda from Alma. Because of his strength and stature, Marie actually was able to take Kanda with ease, and didn’t even need Tiedoll’s help.   However, Tiedoll still accompanied Marie upstairs, leaving Alma.  
  
Alma hesitated, then followed them. He was far too anxious to be left alone.  
  
A door could be heard opening, and Daisya poked his head out – probably from what was his room. His eyes widened when he saw Kanda. “ _Shit_ , what happened!?”  
  
“Akuma attack,” Tiedoll answered.  
  
Tiedoll and Marie quickly moved to get Kanda into his room, as they placed him on the bed. Marie quickly began to check Kanda’s pulse, while Tiedoll focused his attention on Alma, who had been following close behind them. “Alma – can you tell me what happened with the akuma?”  
  
Alma tried to answer quickly, and he averted his gaze. “I-I thought it was a person, and Kanda found us before it could do anything,” He explained, giving the rushed version. “And we killed it, but when we did there was this _smoke_ everywhere, and that’s when Kanda just collapsed…!”  
  
As Alma said these words, understanding befell Tiedoll’s expression. “I see,” He said, eyes pensive. “It must have been the fumes….they were probably too toxic for him.”  
  
Alma looked back at Tiedoll worriedly. “Is he going to be okay?”  
  
Tiedoll paused, as he glanced back where Marie was still with Kanda. “If he didn’t breathe in too much, he should be fine – though he may be out for a while. Unfortunately there’s not much we can do in this situation,” Tiedoll explained, as he turned back to Alma. “We’ll only be able to wait from here.”  
  
The response did little to ease Alma. His expression shifted into confusion, as he looked at Tiedoll questioningly. “But…why didn’t I pass out? I breathed in the fumes too…”  
  
Tiedoll glanced at Alma’s innocence, then met the prince’s gaze. “Your innocence is parasitic, is it not?” He questioned, before continuing, “Akumas carry a virus that is highly toxic to humans, though some akuma have higher levels of it than others. But parasitic accommodators have an immunity since the innocence is a part of their body.”  
  
As Alma listened to the explanation, he vaguely recalled hearing something similar from Klaud and Suman, once when they had returned from an assignment. At the time, Alma hadn’t quite understood what they meant when discussing an “immunity”, but now Alma was wondering if this was what it had been in reference to.  
  
“Kanda has an equipment-type innocence,” Tiedoll spoke. “It’s a good thing you were with him – he might not have made it back at all if you hadn’t been there.”  
  
To this, Alma still found himself unable to say much of anything. He could only watch as Tiedoll went over to check on Kanda with Marie, as Alma anxiously wondered if Kanda would be alright.

* * *

  
  
It was difficult for Alma to sleep that night. After a short while, Tiedoll had tried to reassure Alma that Kanda would be fine, and that Kanda hadn’t breathed in enough of the fumes to have a fatal effect. But, even with that in mind, Alma could feel his thoughts constantly turning, refusing to quiet and keeping him alert.  
  
The memory of the akuma continued to hang, looming in the back of Alma’s mind. It was hard to completely forget just how horrific that one had been, and how utterly _vicious_ it had seemed in the pleasure it took from going after humans. Somehow, even though Alma had seen a few other akuma when he first was in the woods, this one stood out, repeatedly etching itself into his mind.  
  
Alma fought the urge to shudder. He hadn’t even realized some akuma could _talk_ – and that alone seemed to make them all the more frightening.  
  
What had Alma expected though? Looking back, he knew that he hadn’t really been schooled in the details of akuma save for a few basic things: they were demons, somehow created from human souls, usually at the expense of a person’s grief. That much was known, but Alma had learned little else. Even when he had asked Klaud or Suman, they had always been careful in how they worded things to Alma, and had even been hesitant to describe the way akuma looked.  
  
_“They all look a little different. But if you ever saw one, you would know,”_ is often what Klaud would say. The most Suman ever would give was that they looked “ _dead._ ”  
  
_‘But this is what they’ve been seeing?’_ Alma wondered, finding it all incredibly difficult to swallow. All of this time, and _this_ was the extent of what Klaud and Suman had been dealing with? Alma had known it was dangerous, but somehow the weight of it just now seemed to be falling onto him. All of those times Klaud or Suman had been gone on assignments, and all of those times they had come back so _tired_ – Alma didn’t know how it was that they had even managed to keep the composure they did.  
  
It was terrifying to think about. The akuma. The assignments.  
  
_Dying._  
  
Alma sat on the edge of the bed. He looked toward the door, which had been left it slightly ajar. Alma knew Kanda’s room was just down the hall.  
  
Alma stood, and quietly walked out into the hall. As far as he knew, everyone had gone to sleep; it was some time in the middle of the night, and the house was silent.  
  
Seeing that Kanda’s door wasn’t shut all the way, Alma walked over to it, and glanced inside. He had to push it open a bit more to see where Kanda would be, which caused the door to creak somewhat loudly.  
  
As soon as Alma had opened the door, he could see that Tiedoll was actually still in the room. The man had pulled up a chair beside Kanda’s bed, where he could keep a steady eye on him – likely to make sure that Kanda was recovering alright. Beside Tiedoll was another empty chair there, where Marie had been earlier.  
  
Tiedoll turned when he heard Alma. “You’re still awake,” He commented. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”  
  
Alma shifted his weight as he lingered by the door. “Ah, no…I couldn’t really fall asleep.”  
  
Tiedoll motioned for Alma to come over, and Alma did so, taking the other vacant seat. Once Alma did this, his eyes moved over to Kanda, who was still unconscious. _‘He still hasn’t woken up yet…’_ Alma thought, as his gaze rested on the exorcist for a moment.  
  
“His breathing has finally regulated,” Tiedoll spoke, as he noticed the concerned look Alma bore. “He’ll pull through just fine.”  
  
Alma nodded in understanding. He clutched his hand against his thigh softly.  
  
“Do…you all deal with a lot of akuma here?” Alma found himself asking.  
  
Tiedoll thought. “We do,” He answered. “Especially once we exit where the seal marks are. Given we all have innocence, it attracts them even more.”  
  
Alma’s expression was distant. In his head, his memories seemed to be continuously playing the events from earlier on some kind of loop. The akuma and its charade in particular stood out the most.  
  
“I thought it was a person…the akuma…” Alma murmured softly. “When I found it, I thought it was an old woman who needed help…”  
  
Tiedoll looked at Alma. His expression was serious. “Yes, akuma can and will work to trick you,” Tiedoll warned. “We all have to be extremely cautious here. There are akuma with high enough intelligence that they will scheme, so we can’t simply trust anyone.”  
  
To this, Alma said nothing. He felt foolish for having been so easily tricked, and for so stupidly making himself vulnerable. But, how could Alma have known? The uncertainty of not knowing who was an akuma, and who wasn’t was _terrifying_.  
  
How? How could people _take it_? How could Klaud, and Suman, and even Tiedoll and the other exorcists take it?  
  
Tiedoll stood. “Kanda should be alright,” He reminded Alma, before he himself was about to leave. “Unless you want to stay – but you should really try to sleep.”  
  
Alma hesitated, eyes still somewhat averted. “I’ll try to,” He said, though Alma didn’t actually bother to stand. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Kanda’s unconscious form lying on the bed.  
  
Tiedoll nodded, but said no more as he left Alma.  
  
Alma didn’t lift his gaze, even when Tiedoll let him be. The floorboards were oddly fixating, and although Alma’s mind was restless his head felt heavy – _everything_ felt heavy.  
  
_‘What did you expect though?’_  A voice from somewhere inside the depths of Alma’s mind seemed to ask.   _‘What else did you expect it to be like?’_  
  
The thought was oddly cutting, and Alma couldn’t answer himself.  
  
_‘I don’t know…’_  


* * *

  
  
It was cold, and Tricia couldn’t sleep.  
  
Not that she  _had_  been able to sleep – not for several days, at least.  Ever since…  
  
Tricia got out of bed.  It was dark, though her eyes had already adjusted to the moonlight, which crept in through the curtains.  She glanced over, and noticed that Sheril was not in bed with her – a bit strange, really.  Tricia was not sure where her husband was, or when he might have even awoken.  
  
Inside, a part of her cracked a bit.  She didn’t want to be alone then.  
  
Tricia clutched at her night robe, as she walked to the door, exiting the room.  Not a trace of sound could be heard in the corridor – even when the queen so gently closed the door behind her.  
  
A shiver graced her; it was cold in the hallway.  
  
The sensation was fleeting, if only because it was far less noticeable in comparison to what else Tricia was feeling in that moment.  Her insides felt twisted and knotted, and her heart felt as though it had become cool, crumbling marble – weighed down, and oddly breakable.    
  
Fragile.  Too fragile.  
  
Tricia walked, not even consciously aware of where she was going.  She dared not to think too much about it though, as Tricia foolishly did her best to keep that knowledge compressed beneath the surface of her mind, hidden and invisible, and in something that could only be called  _denial_.  
  
Inside, a voice warned her nothing would be different.  It warned her that nothing would have changed.  
  
She didn’t listen, and walked regardless.  She walked along, where it was so empty and so quiet.  
  
Tricia couldn’t remember when the castle had suddenly begun to felt so vacant. When had the halls begun to seem so desolate, and when had the rooms begun to appear so barren? It hadn’t always been this way.  
  
_Laughter. Her late husband’s laughter. Her son’s laughter.  
  
_ Silence.  
  
Tricia re-focused. She realized she was standing in front of a door – Alma’s door. It was shut.  
  
_‘It won’t be different,’_ Something warned her. _‘No one will be there. He won’t be there…’_  
  
Still, Tricia opened it. The room was dark, and no one was inside. The bed was still made from several days ago, and everything was untouched.  
  
_‘He’s not…’_  
  
It was at that moment that Tricia broke down into tears.

* * *

  
  
When Kanda started to wake up, the first thing he noticed was that he had a _raging_ headache.  
  
His face scrunched up into a grimace. Kanda’s throat felt so dry that it almost felt scorched, and his chest ached when he breathed; it was as though his lungs had been clogged with dirt and smog, and it was terribly unpleasant. _‘Fuck,’_ He thought, as he tried to remember just what had happened before he passed out.  
  
Eyes blinking open, Kanda tried to focus. Sunlight spilled into the room, with the brightness causing Kanda to shut his eyes against once more. He cursed under his breath, already feeling more agitated than normal.  
  
But, Kanda eventually managed to open his eyes. He had to do so gradually, to avoid being blinded by daylight. Kanda’s eyes soon adjusted, and he turned, glimpsing around the room – which he immediately recognized as his own.  
  
Kanda’s eyes stopped promptly as soon as he noticed something that _didn’t_ belong in his room.  
  
Specifically, some _one_.  
  
Beside the bed, Kanda saw two chairs. One was vacant, but the other was occupied – and by Alma, nevertheless, fast asleep and gently snoring. His head was leaning forward, and he was slouched back in the chair, entirely out cold.  
  
Kanda stared. For a fleeting second, he thought that maybe he had hit his head or something prior to losing consciousness – after all, why the hell would the dumb _royal_ be in his room? In fact, Kanda was irritated; Alma didn’t _need_ to be in there. So why was he?  
  
Frowning, Kanda tried to sit up, ready to shake the prince awake to find out what had happened. “Hey, wake up-“ He was about to snap, before the dryness of his throat got to him, causing Kanda to start coughing horribly.  
  
Alma jolted, waking up from the noise. He at first looked a bit lost, as though he wasn’t certain of his location, but his focus soon landed on Kanda. Alma’s eyes grew wide in concern.  
  
“Hey – hey, are you okay?” Alma asked, as he placed a hand on Kanda’s shoulder to steady the other exorcist.  
  
Kanda shifted, pulling out of Alma’s grasp. “I’m _fine_ -“ Kanda barely managed, before he fell into another coughing fit.  
  
Quickly, Alma got up, and left the room. While he was gone, Kanda could feel his cough lightening, though his esophagus still seemed to burn. He took a few breaths, trying to steady himself – but, he felt dehydrated and like crap. He would need to go downstairs to get some water as soon as he was out of bed-  
  
Then, before Kanda could even think to stand, the door opened and Alma hurried back into the room. With him, he had a cup.  
  
Alma came back over to the bedside, where he sat down, and handed the cup out to Kanda. “Here.”

Kanda stared, as he eyed the cup suspiciously.  
  
Alma frowned when he saw the look on Kanda’s face “It’s just _water_ ,” Alma emphasized. “You need to drink some.”  
  
Despite Alma’s reassurance, Kanda still hesitated. But, after a few long seconds, he took the cup from Alma, and drank from it, gulping down the contents quickly once he realized how thirsty he was.  
  
As Kanda finished, Alma looked at him. “Do you feel any better?”  
  
Kanda paused, and stared at Alma. Admittedly, the water _had_ helped; Kanda’s throat still felt a little scratchy, but the hydration had otherwise appeared to improve things.    
  
However, rather than being able to acknowledge this aloud, Kanda could not get past one grating detail.  
  
“Why the hell are you in my room?” Kanda bluntly asked. “You were asleep here when I woke up.”  
  
The question somewhat threw Alma off, as he blushed upon remembering he _had_ fallen asleep in Kanda’s room. But, the tone in which Kanda had spoken was somewhat aggravating, and Alma’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m in here because I was _checking_ on you,” Alma answered.    
  
“Yeah, well I didn’t ask you to.”  
  
Alma huffed. Really? Was Kanda _really_ going to act this way, even after what was a seemingly near death experience? Alma was floored, but also becoming incredibly frustrated – why did Kanda have to be so _difficult_?  
  
Alma crossed his arms, still frowning – though, it looked more like a pout than anything else. “You know, most people with basic manners would actually say thank you…”  
  
Kanda scoffed, and looked away. “Sorry. I wasn’t raised in a pompous court like you were.”  
  
Bristling, Alma uncrossed his arms as he gripped the edge of his seat, offense flashing in his eyes. “ _Pompous_!?” He exclaimed, just about ready to lose his temper with hearing these insults. “The only one acting pompous right now is you!”  
  
“Tch. Are you serious? You’re the one who’s having a fit because they’re not getting showered in gratitude...”  
  
“I didn’t help you to get _gratitude_ ,” Alma argued.  
  
“Yeah, then why did you?”  
  
Alma snapped. He stood up abruptly, just about having _had it_ with Kanda’s backtalk. “I did it because I you were unconscious and _I was scared you weren’t going to wake up_!” He all but shouted. “So stop acting like I have an agenda! And _stop being a jerk to people who are bothering to worry in the first place_!”  
  
The words tumbled out speedily, and there was a sudden rush of silence that followed Alma’s outburst. Alma had to actually catch his breath because spoken so fast, and it wasn’t until he noticed the odd way Kanda was just _staring_ that Alma had even started to process what he actually said.  
  
Immediately, Alma’s cheeks flushed into scarlet. He swiftly took the cup back from Kanda. “I’m taking this back downstairs,” He mumbled, words so low in volume they were nearly inaudible before Alma tried to get out of the room as fast as possible, leaving a somewhat stunned and bewildered Kanda.  
  
_‘Get out, get out, get out,’_ Alma thought, feeling incredibly awkward given what he had just blurted out, as he sped walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was grateful not to see anyone in that moment; Alma could feel the heat lingering on his face, and his heart was beating at an abnormally fast pace.  
  
How was it Kanda could just get Alma so _flustered_ like that?  
  
It hadn’t helped with what Alma had shouted; if anything, it had probably come across weirdly. The way Kanda had looked when Alma had blurted out those words had been all too apparent, and there was something rather embarrassing about the whole situation.  
  
Alma went into the kitchen, where he found the washbasin. Grabbing a cloth, he took some soap and very _aggressively_ began to scrub the cup. The force he was using was unnecessary; there had only been water inside. But, Alma felt an excessive amount of energy boiling inside him, and he needed to get it _out_.  
  
_‘What a jerk,’_ Alma thought, still stuck on how obnoxiously _rude_ Kanda had consistently been to him. _‘And it wasn’t weird what I said! Any decent person would have worried!’_  
  
Alma scrubbed harder. Just what was Kanda’s deal anyway? Alma wasn’t so ignorant that he would have thought he’d get along with everyone perfectly well, but he wasn’t terrible, and it was like Kanda just hated the world.  
  
“I don’t even know how someone could live with someone like Kanda. He’s _impossible_ ,” Alma muttered under his breath.  
  
“Mm. He’s a challenge, but he does have his moments.”  
  
“I doubt it…” Alma murmured, as he continued scrubbing. “He has to be the _rudest_ jerk I’ve ever-“  
  
Alma stopped abruptly. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t talking to himself, and very hesitantly turned to see who was next to him.  
  
Of course, it was Tiedoll.  
  
If Alma’s face had been scarlet before, it was beet red now. _‘Shit,’_ He thought, absolutely appalled with himself for having being caught saying the things he had been. And by Tiedoll, of all people.  
  
“That you’ve ever met?” Tiedoll finished, as he looked at Alma. There was actually an almost entertained look that seemed to peak through his eyes, although Alma was far too abashed to notice.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Alma barely managed to stammer out, knowing that he seemed probably just as rude as Kanda was, if not worse.  
  
Tiedoll held his hands up. “It’s not me you were talking about,” Tiedoll brushed off, before lowering his hands back down. “Or that poor cup you’re so fervently attacking there.”  
  
Realizing that he probably _had_ scrubbed the cup as thoroughly as possible, Alma quickly dried it, before putting it away.  
  
“I take it Kanda is awake then?” Tiedoll asked, as he continued to look at Alma.  
  
“Uh huh…” Alma responded, still feeling awkward. “He’s awake and feels… fine apparently…”  
  
Tiedoll nodded in understand. “Ah, I see,” He spoke, knowing perfectly well that Alma was more or less implying that Kanda’s rather heated temperament was perfectly in tact. “That’s good though. You were pretty worried last night.”  
  
Alma said nothing to this, and averted his gaze. Well, of course he had been worried – Kanda was unpleasant, but Alma didn’t want anything _bad_ to happen to the guy. Alma wasn’t heartless.  
  
“I’m sure Kanda appreciates it. He just doesn’t know how to admit it.”  
  
Alma raised his gaze, and gave Tiedoll a dubious look. He then sighed. “I don’t think he feels that way…”  
  
Actually, Alma knew Kanda didn’t feel that way. Kanda all but _radiated_ disgust toward Alma.  
  
“Give it time,” Tiedoll reassured. “I’m sure you two will find a way of getting along eventually.”  
  
This surprised Alma, and he looked at Tiedoll uncertainly. “You’re…still okay with me staying?” He asked, really quite surprised that Tiedoll would even let him continue to remain at the house considering all of the chaos that had occurred. “I’d have thought you wanted me to leave after last night…”  
  
Tiedoll paused, as he considered what to say next. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve all broken into some kind of argument. It won’t be the last,” He stated simply.  
  
The words were a bit reassuring – at least to where Alma didn’t feel quite as terrible about all that had happened. But, his mind soon wandered back to Kanda, and what Marie had said the previous night. Briefly, Alma wondered if maybe Tiedoll knew anything more about why Kanda was so confrontational.  
  
Before Alma could ask, Tiedoll spoke. “There was something I wanted to ask you,” The man started to say, catching Alma’s attention. “The akuma you encountered last night – do you remember where it was?”  
  
Alma paused, as he thought back. “I think…I went northwest? I’m not sure,” Alma admitted, as he still was somewhat unfamiliar with the area. “But I could tell you the direction I went in from outside.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “That would be helpful,” He said. “Marie and I will be heading out in the next day or so, and by then the fumes should have cleared out enough. We’ll probably check the area to make sure there are no remains of the akuma or anything abnormal left.”  
  
Alma blinked. “Where are you and Marie going?” He asked, not entirely sure where the two of them could be going. He remembered Tiedoll saying that Daisya and Kanda had been getting supplies, so surely that wasn’t the reason they were now leaving?  
  
Tiedoll hesitated, and looked as though he were pondering something prior to answering. He then spoke. “Marie and I need to look into something. It’s regarding an akuma.”  
  
Eyes widening a bit, Alma’s expression sparked with curiosity. “Is this a part of what you do as exorcists? Do you just look into things, sort of like what official units do?” Alma began to ask. “What do you do when you find an akuma? You really don’t report to anyone? What if you find _innocence_?”  
  
“Ah, there are the questions again,” Tiedoll said, sounding slightly amused. His eyes were only somewhat lighthearted though, as he answered Alma seriously. “We handle things on a case by case basis you could say. No situation is the exact same.”  
  
The response, although technically one, was vague. Alma still felt somewhat confused; he just couldn’t fathom a group of exorcists functioning in what seemed to be how a unit would, yet they weren’t quite an official one. It seemed rather strange, and again Alma couldn’t help but feel as though he were just missing some piece of a puzzle.  
  
Leaning back against the kitchen table, Alma looked at Tiedoll inquisitively. He tried another question. “Tiedoll…where are you from?” Alma asked. “I know Daisya is from those islands, but I don’t really know about you, or Marie, or even Kanda…are you all from the same place?”  
  
Tiedoll didn’t answer right away, and something brief flickered in his eyes.   It was only a quick flash, but Alma had managed to catch it – and whatever it was, it made him worry that he had crossed a line by asking something too personal.  
  
Someone could be heard entering into the kitchen, and Alma turned to see Kanda. He still looked worn out, and his hair was somewhat disheveled despite being pulled back into a ponytail. He didn’t really acknowledge Alma or Tiedoll when entering though, and had his sword with him as he went to leave through the back door.  
  
Tiedoll raised an eyebrow. “Good morning to you as well,” He said, purposefully pointing out Kanda’s lack of talkativeness. “Glad to see you’re alive and walking.”  
  
Kanda chose to ignore the parental dig. “Are Daisya and Marie training outside?”  
  
“They are, but you should be taking it easy,” Tiedoll admonished in a somewhat fatherly way. “Especially given what happened last night – you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. Stop acting like you’re my father or some shit.”  
  
Tiedoll clicked his tongue. “You really have such a mean way to you,” He spoke, though the tone was actually teasing. “And here I was worried sick all night.”  
  
Face twisting in annoyance, Kanda turned away sharply, making a move to head outside.  
  
“You should take Alma with you,” Tiedoll suggested lightly. “Considering he’s an accommodator too.”  
  
Kanda whipped his head in Tiedoll’s direction, looking absolutely appalled by the idea. Then, he glared at Alma. “I’m _not_ training with him.”  
  
Upon hearing Kanda’s reaction, Alma’s face – that had initially been a bit surprised by the suggestion – shifted into an annoyed pout.   So, Kanda was going to make a big deal about Alma possibly _training_ with the other exorcists now?  
  
“Oh, be reasonable, Kanda. It’s necessary to train together to understand how your allies fight,” Tiedoll rationalized.  
  
“Tch. I understand how he fights, and it’s shoddy as hell. No training can fix that,” Kanda grumbled.  
  
Immediately, Alma was incensed. _Shoddy?_  
  
“Kanda,” Tiedoll warned, tone becoming a hair more serious.  
  
Despite the subtleness in which Tiedoll had used it, the tonal shift seemed to flip a switch in Kanda, and he backed down a bit. He still seemed thoroughly displeased with the notion of training with Alma, but at least no further insults seemed to be leaving Kanda’s lips.  
  
Exhaling, Kanda spoke. “Whatever,” He grumbled, before throwing a cool look in Alma’s direction. “Come on.”  
  
Kanda started outside after that, and Alma, though slightly put off, followed. He was still somewhat irritated about the insult Kanda had pitched regarding Alma’s fighting – just who was Kanda to do that?  
  
_‘Shoddy. My fighting is_ not _shoddy,’_ Alma thought, for whatever reason finding it difficult to get past that particular dig. However, once he was outside, a slight breeze brushed by. With it, the breeze carried a scent that was subtle, but fragrant; it caught Alma’s attention and distracted him almost instantly.  
  
Kanda had walked on ahead, but Alma had stopped, glancing around. He noticed the small herb garden, and Alma realized scent had come from there.  
  
A bit ahead, Kanda finally took notice of Alma stopping. He turned, and looked back at Alma in annoyance. “What are you doing?”  
  
Alma turned to Kanda. “What kind of plant is that over there?” He asked, pointing over to one of the slightly taller plants. It looked as though it had flowered a little with purple blossoms, but Alma wasn’t sure what it was. “It smells nice.”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flickered over to the plant, then back to Alma. “It’s lavender. Stop being so damn nosey.”  
  
Once more, Alma frowned in a pout-like manner. “I wasn’t being nosey…” He mumbled, before going to catch up with Kanda – who had again, started walking. As Alma made it to where Kanda was, he noticed that Kanda seemed to be intently focused on looking forward, and not acknowledging Alma at all.  
  
Upon seeing this, Alma couldn’t hold back. “Are you always like this?” He blurted out, before he could even think to stop himself.  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed over to Alma. “Like _what?_ ”  
  
The iciness in which Kanda spoke caused Alma to waver, but only for a second. If anything, the reaction only spurned Alma on more. “You know…like always in a bad mood,” Alma said, though he wasn’t sure entirely how to word his explanation. “It’s like you’re just mad at _everything_. Don’t you get tired of it?”  
  
Kanda turned away, as he continued walking.  
  
“And is it really necessary to just _ignore_ me like that?” Alma asked, this time irritation trickling into his tone.  
  
Kanda responded without sparing Alma a glance. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”  
  
“I’m not asking for an explanation – I just am trying to trying to understand why you’re always being so _grouchy_ all the time,” Alma clarified, as he shook his head, looking at Kanda curiously. “It seems exhausting…”  
  
Finally, Kanda looked back at Alma. There was a frustrated expression he wore, and his brow was knitted together. “Why do you even _care_?” He asked sharply. “And don’t you ever shut up? If you’re going to ramble, just go back to the house already and stop annoying me.   It’s not like training will do you much good anyways.”  
  
Once again, Alma recalled the earlier comment Kanda had made about his fighting, and crossed his arms. “My fighting isn’t _bad_ ,” Alma argued. “And I’m the one who helped you last night, remember?”  
  
“Yeah. After I found you tied to a tree…”  
  
“That wasn’t my fault! And it still helped with me being there,” Alma said, as he huffed. “You just don’t want to admit it…”  
  
“Tch. Listen,” Kanda started to counter, “The _only_ reason you were helpful at all was because you have a parasitic innocence, and that kept you immune to those toxins. That had nothing to do with yourself or your fighting skill. Stop taking credit for something your innocence did.”  
  
Alma whipped his head in Kanda’s direction, mouth slightly open. He then closed it, before something in him seemed to snap. “You know what? I want to do a session right here, right now.”  
  
“What, so you can just embarrass yourself?” Kanda asked, tone challenging. “I’m not going to waste my time on you when I’d rather go find Daisya and Marie.”  
  
Alma didn’t back down. “Yeah? I think you’re just scared that you’re wrong.”  
  
“What?” Kanda snapped, a he was suddenly taking hold of his sword. “You want to say that again, _royal_?”  
  
“Sure – I think you’re scared of my _shoddy_ fighting!”  
  
Kanda’s jaw clenched, as his patience was just about spent. He gripped the handle of his weapon tightly. “Fine,” He answered through gritted teeth, as he activated his innocence. “You want to fight? We’ll fight.”  
  
In response, Alma activated his own innocence, just before Kanda swung.

* * *

  
  
The sound of something whizzing through the air entered Marie’s ears, and he moved, just in time to dodge Daisya’s attack. A metallic, ball-like weapon had sped passed Marie, just missing him by a hair, but it looped around and Marie jumped again.  
  
A few meters away, the ball returned to Daisya, and he put his foot on it to stop it. “Nice. I’d like to see you try that without those headphones though,” Daisya suggested teasingly. “It’s no fun for me if you can hear every single thing!”  
  
Marie’s lips quirked upward in light amusement. It faded though, as he heard something else. “Do you hear that?”  
  
Daisya paused, and glanced around. The two of them were outside, a bit away from everything where they would be able to train together with their anti-akuma weapons. But, they were still within the range of the seal marks, so usually Daisya didn’t bother to listen for anything too strange.  
  
However, when Daisya did listen, he could hear the sound of something clanging – and someone shouting.  
  
Or, in this case, _two_ people shouting – one of who sounded an awful lot like Kanda.  
  
“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll cut that tongue out myself!”  
  
“You couldn’t even cut me out of those webs entirely!”  
  
“I was fucking _fighting an akuma_!”  
  
Marie raised an eyebrow, and turned toward Daisya. “That doesn’t sound good…”  
  
The two of them went to inspect the noise after that, though it didn’t take Daisya and Marie long. Within seconds, the two of them eventually were able to track where Kanda and Alma both fighting through the trees, each with their anti-akuma weapons activated, and going at each other _viciously_.  
  
Kanda was just in the midst of charging at Alma, as he swung his sword. Quickly, Alma flipped his bow, as he held it with both hands to use it to block the attack, shoving Kanda back. “That’s a crap move!”  
  
“You mean like your aim!?” Kanda snapped back.  
  
Marie frowned slightly, as he heard the commotion. “Maybe we should stop them…”  
  
Daisya looked at Marie incredulously. “What? No way – I want see who beats who first,” He said, as he leaned back against a tree to watch the remainder of the fight going on.  
  
Marie sighed, and shook his head.  
  
Alma aimed, and shot a newly materialized arrow. It sped outward, and zoomed by Kanda. While Alma wasn’t intending to actually injure Kanda, he _was_ intending to pin him; if Alma could do that, he would at least feel satisfied in knowing that he had caught Kanda, and wouldn’t have to deal with the other exorcist constantly insulting his aim.  
  
In reality, Alma and Kanda were both holding their own decently. Alma had a slight advantage in that he could attack from a longer range, but Kanda was fast and perceptive. Already, Kanda seemed to have picked up on Alma’s fighting pattern, and he was about to use it to his advantage.  
  
With a swift motion, Kanda swung his sword, releasing an attack with his innocence. The blade illuminated briefly, and several ghost-like insects were released. Although they didn’t attack Alma directly, they _did_ act as a good distraction, catching Alma off guard.  
  
As Kanda anticipated, Alma made a move to shoot at some of the insects in defense. While acting, Alma had also neglected to notice he had ended up with his back close to a tree – which was an opportunity that Kanda wasn’t about to miss.  
  
Quickly, Kanda ran, catching Alma from the side as he pinned Alma back to the tree. His blade had managed to catch into the sleeve of Alma’s shirt, and the insects dissolved, with Kanda having no use for them.  
  
_‘Got him,’_ Kanda thought, already feeling a bit smug at finally having nailed down the prince. Hopefully, it would stop Alma from running his mouth if anything.  
  
“Looks like you lost this time,” Kanda was saying, before he stopped, his eyes resting on Alma.  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed, as he was about to make some kind of retort. However, before he could even get the words out, his eyes caught a glimpse of the blade, and the feeling of the rough, rigid tree bark beneath his back was too prominent. Unexpectedly, Alma felt a sudden rush of iciness befall him, and his breath caught in his throat.  
  
_Alma felt frozen as he stood with his back to the tree. Suman was pointing the gauntlet-weapon at Alma, and one shot would have killed him_ easily _.  
  
Suman was still. “Don’t move,” He instructed quietly. “It’ll be a lot easier if you let me do this quickly.”_  
  
The memory flashed, replaying itself in Alma’s mind vividly. His heart thudded in his chest; suddenly, Alma wasn’t with Kanda. He was pinned against to the tree, and there was someone else. Suman? No, it wasn’t Suman anymore, but it was…  
  
_‘Sheril…’_ Alma thought, as he felt the color drain from his face. His body had grown horridly cold, and stiff; he wanted to move, and to run. Alma wanted to run, but couldn’t. He was too afraid.  
  
_‘Please don’t…’_ Alma wanted to say. Alma wanted to _beg_ – but the words refused to spill, as they remained lodged in his throat, keeping him silent as he remained gently trembling against that tree.  
  
_“Alma?”_  
  
_‘Stop…just please stop…’_ Alma wanted to say. Wanted to say, but couldn’t.  
  
_“Alma!”  
  
“What’s wrong with him? Shit, what did you even _ do _?”  
  
“I didn’t do anything-!“  
  
“Alma, can you hear me?”  
  
_ Voices. Somewhere, Alma could hear voices. But, he was struggling to remember where he was. He knew he was against a tree, but Alma’s mind had just shut down, and everything was _blank_. All Alma knew was that he felt cold, and he was shivering-  
  
“Alma!”  
  
Alma blinked, for the first time registering how _close_ the voice was – Marie’s voice, somewhat alarmed in comparison to how he usually spoke, and deep.  
  
A shaky breath escaped Alma; he tried to focus on where he was, still with his back against the tree and outside somewhere. He could still feel his body trembling slightly, and his legs felt incredibly weak. As Alma noticed this, he was suddenly aware that he was no longer standing, and was slouched down onto the ground, composure gone entirely. In one hand, he was still clutching his bow-innocence, and his knuckles were white.  
  
Alma looked. He could see Marie had knelt down, with a hand on Alma’s shoulder to steady him. A worried expression remained on his face, while Daisya stood a bit behind, also looking unsure.  
  
Kanda was there too, Alma noticed. Unexpectedly, he had also knelt down, and looked…concerned? It was hard to tell, but there was a frown on his face.  
  
Kanda turned to Marie. “It looks like he’s snapping out of it,” Kanda murmured, so Marie would be aware that there had been some kind of shift in Alma’s state.  
  
“Alma,” Marie repeated, lowering his volume after hearing Kanda’s words. “Alma, are you alright?”  
  
Alma hesitated. He wasn’t sure what had happened, and now that he was beginning to focus again he could remember that he had been fighting with Kanda – but all of the sudden he had just gone somewhere else, and experienced something _terrible_.  
  
Alma didn’t want to say this out loud though. The mere thought of the experience was enough to send icy tremors down Alma’s spine, causing him to feel horribly vulnerable and nauseous with unease.  
  
Because of this, Alma looked down, avoiding everyone’s gaze. He nodded his head wordlessly.  
  
Kanda’s frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything. He looked over at Marie.  
  
Marie also frowned pensively. He couldn’t see the nod, but he could still feel Alma’s shoulders shaking a bit, and spoke. “Let’s go back to the house, alright? Here, I’ll help you up.”  
  
Without saying anything, Alma allowed for Marie to assist him. His legs felt oddly unstable, and as though his bones had been liquefied. Out of the corner of his eye, Alma could also see Kanda stand, but Alma looked away, not wanting to chance making eye contact with the other exorcist.  
  
Daisya walked over to Kanda, while Marie walked ahead with Alma. He looked over questioningly. “What do you think even happened?” Daisya asked. “He looked like he was spooked as hell or something.”  
  
Kanda didn’t answer, as he watched Marie and Alma disappear. He found himself struggling to comprehend the unexpected shift that had taken place in Alma, and how one minute Alma had been annoyingly determined and energetic, and the next he had been…  
  
_‘Terrified,’_ Kanda thought, as he frowned once more. Alma had looked genuinely terrified, wide-eyed and pale. _‘It’s like he wasn’t even here. Like he was seeing something…’_  
  
Somewhere inside, Kanda felt a small lurch of concern. Quickly, he tried to ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAD A LONG WEEKEND AND BOYYYYY. It was needed. A 4 day weekend can do wonders for when you want to write/edit things. XD (I ended up writing what I wanted, which was getting ahead enough to post this early - I’m not sure if my next update will be Friday or Sunday, since I have to work over the weekend, but I’m still aiming to get another update in then.)
> 
> Note-wise, I don’t have as much to say here. From this point on, we’re going to get more Kanda-Alma interaction - which, in this chapter was frustrating since they just...cannot get along. At all. Two minutes, and they’re fighting. XD (Not that I entirely blame Alma - you’d think Kanda would be a little more grateful for being helped, but ah. Kanda is stubborn and he has an obnoxious amount of pride here.) 
> 
> The next few chapters will also start to alternate occasionally back to the castle, since I don’t want to eliminate that completely (and things are going to get more messy plot-wise there). So that’ll gradually be coming up more; I’m really just trying to keep these parts balanced, so nothing gets completely left in the dust. >.< (Plus, a certain redheaded Bookman will be returning HNNN. >.>)
> 
> I hope everyone has a good week, and to all who are reading that you enjoyed the chapter! <3


	15. Lullabies of Lavender

The air was tense, and it was stifling.  
  
Klaud eyed the room. It was a moderately sized room, primarily designed for when the queen would meet with her advisors. The interior was somewhat rectangular, which richly colored burgundy walls and tall, narrow windows. Within it, there was an elongated mahogany table. There was nothing on the table, and it was completely cleared.   But, there were people seated all around it: advisors, primarily, and a few of the higher-ranking guards.  
  
At the head of the table, was Tricia. To her left, was Sheril.  
  
Klaud’s gaze moved to the two of them briefly; she herself was seated not too far away from Tricia, more off to the right and fortunately away from Sheril. It was difficult for Klaud to be too close to the man without shooting him a distasteful look, and it was an impulse she needed to be wary of. Carefully, Klaud remained composed; her expression was somber, but neutral. Unyielding.  
  
The composure nearly fractured, as Klaud’s gaze rested on the queen. Tricia looked haggard, and as though she hadn’t slept a wink. The queen’s complexion was far paler than normal, with hardly a blush of color to her cheeks; and her eyes, which often were already so light, seemed duller. Tricia just looked _tired_. Somber, but tired.  
  
It was concerning, to say in the least.  
  
Sheril, of course, was another story. He looked nowhere near as spent as Tricia, and if anything appeared normal health-wise; the only thing Klaud noticed was that Sheril appeared incredibly solemn, but that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. Sheril always knew how to maintain a severe exterior when the time called for it.  
  
Quietly, Klaud wondered if it were a mask.  
  
Actually, she was quite certain it _was_ – Klaud had never trusted Sheril. She hadn’t trusted him years ago when he first came to the castle, and Klaud most definitely did not trust the man now.  
  
The room up until this point had been quiet, with only a few soft whispers exchanged here and there. Klaud was able to catch a few of the details, though nothing surprised her: it was only obvious that the advisors were already conversing over the topic of the meeting already.  
  
The doors were shut, and the room quieted, signifying the beginning of the meeting. Klaud’s eyes once again shifted over to where Tricia and Sheril were.  
  
Her eyes met Sheril’s dark gaze immediately, and Klaud looked away.  
  
One of the advisors – a short, older man with gray hair and by the name of Cromwell – was first to speak. “It’s been almost five days,” Cromwell started to say. His voice, although contained, held a sense of urgency to it. “Has there been _anything_ found yet?”  
  
As the question was posed, Tricia seemed to stiffen. There was an anxious, uneasy energy to her body, and her eyes instinctively seemed to move over to where Sheril was, as though she were seeking some kind of affirmation. Support. _Something.  
  
_ Sheril responded to the advisor. “The exorcist general has been leading and delegating search parties,” He pointed out calmly, as his gaze flickered over the Klaud. “Perhaps she can enlighten us on her findings.”  
  
There was an underlying tone to Sheril’s voice – something subtle enough that it could have gone unnoticed, yet distinctive to the point where it pinched one of Klaud’s nerves. Naturally, she forced herself to ignore it. Everyone’s attention was on her, and Klaud knew that they were awaiting an answer.  
  
Klaud took in a silent breath, and spoke. “As of now, we’ve located no signs of the prince’s whereabouts.  We’ve begun to extend our search into the woods to see if we can find anything there.”  
  
The answer caused a tense hush to befall the room, and the attendees exchanged glances.  

  
Klaud knew well enough what they were thinking. The woods. The akuma. The unlikeliness that anyone – even an _accommodator_ – could survive for long…  
  
Another advisor spoke – this time, a more middle-aged man with ink-colored hair and a neatly trimmed beard. “Should we not be investigating those who were here the day of the disappearance? There was a good number of visitors in the castle. It’s rather suspicious that Prince Alma would disappear around then.”  
  
Sheril responded. “Yes, we are beginning to investigate who was still in the kingdom around the time Prince Alma was last seen. However, many of the guests had already departed before then,” He said, in a calm, fluid manner. “Of course, we are still being diligent in looking into every potential suspect.”  
  
The advisor seemed mildly satisfied by this response, and backed down a bit, but then Sheril continued. “With that being said, we will also begin to interrogations that those in the castle will need to participate in as well.”  
  
As soon as the words were released, there was an anxious outbreak of questions and comments from the meeting attendees. Klaud remained silent, but a look of surprise appeared in her eyes. She wasn’t so foolish as to ignore the possibility of foul play in the castle, but something about the way Sheril had presented the news was…unsettling, to say in the least. It put her on edge.  
  
Another advisor spoke, with alarm trickling into his voice. “Are you suggesting this could be some act of treason?”  
  
Sheril was unflinching in his reply, as he answered without a beat, his words even and logical. “Nothing is being suggested as of now – not without reason. But the situation is a severe one, and we can’t risk anything. Everyone including staff, advisors, exorcists,” Sheril spoke, as his eyes briefly moved to Klaud, “Will be questioned.”  
  
Despite the rationale behind Sheril’s words, there was still some debate. Sheril spoke over of them. “If any of you wish to argue this, you may take it up with the queen – as it was her suggestion.”  
  
Klaud could feel her lips threaten to pull into a frown as she heard this. Her eyes moved to Tricia, as did the eyes of the other attendees.  
  
Seeing that confirmation was needed, the queen nodded her head. “What Sheril says is true. The questionings will begin under my orders,” Tricia spoke.  
  
As the queen said this, her words were surprisingly firm, if not a bit strained. Klaud noticed that Tricia’s voice seemed to have a slight fluctuation toward the end – pained, and struggling to remain composed. Truthfully, Tricia was doing a decent enough job, and Klaud had likely noticed only because she knew Tricia so well.  
  
Klaud also knew Tricia well enough to be doubtful that this _was_ the queen’s idea. The general therefore refrained from debating the issue further – as did the rest of the meeting attendees.  
  
The rest of the meeting passed swiftly, and once adjourned Klaud did not linger. She departed quickly, catching the paranoid whispers of the other attendees as she left. Her darkly-colored lips pressed into a thin line, Klaud placed a hand on Lau Shimin; the monkey had been incredibly silent, and unmoving during the meeting – but now his tail swished back and forth in an almost anxious manner.  
  
Klaud couldn’t blame the monkey. She felt similarly.  
  
Without delay, Klaud continued on. Fortunately, it didn’t take her long to find who she was seeking out. There was a small group of finders not far ahead, and one in particular who she needed to speak with.  
  
“Toma,” Klaud spoke, gaining the attention off the three finders – Toma, especially.  
  
Toma’s eyes met Klaud’s. “General,” He greeted politely. “How did the meeting go?”  
  
As expected, there was a burning curiosity as well as anxiousness to his words. Klaud’s expression remained collected. “It went,” She answered. “I need to speak with you.”  
  
The general did not need to go into detail; the look on her face was more than enough to indicate she wished to speak to Toma alone. Politely nodding, the other finders took their leave, while Toma was left with Klaud.  
  
Toma looked at Klaud, eyes inquisitive.  “What is it, General?”  
  
Klaud glanced around, before motioning for Toma to follow her.  The finder did without question, and they quickly entered into a small room – a study, really – where Klaud shut the door behind her.    
  
Once it was closed, Klaud returned her attention to Toma.  “I need you to do something for me.”  
  
Despite the bottom half of his face being covered with mask-like bandages, surprise could be seen in Toma’s eyes.  However, he did not object to the request, and simply asked a question.  “What is it you need me to do?”  
  
Klaud took something out of her pocket – a small, folded piece of parchment.  “I need this to be sent out to Lyons – to Bookman,” Klaud explained.  “I’d do it myself, but it’ll be safer if someone else sends it.  I know I can trust you.”  
  
Toma took the parchment, and nodded.  “I understand,” He said.  “I can ensure it gets sent out today.”  
  
“Thank you.  Be careful that no one sees you do so – it can’t be intercepted,” Klaud emphasized, as she tried to ignore the nervous tightness in her chest.     
  
“I will,” Toma assured.  He then paused, before asking, “General – was any reason determined for the prince’s disappearance?  We’ve been searching, but…”  
  
Klaud hesitated, then exhaled.  “No,” She responded.  “No reason has been determined yet, but everyone is to be questioned.”  
  
Toma nodded.  “Maybe…someone will know something.  Or have seen something at the very least,” He suggested, with concern in his voice.  “It’s terrifying to think of what’s happened…”  
  
Klaud’s expression was stony, and her eyes were distant.  “It is,” She reaffirmed, voice soft.  “But we’ll see.”  
  
_‘We’ll see…’  
_

* * *

  
  
The rest of the day had passed by uneventfully – something for which Kanda was grateful for.  
  
Gingerly, Kanda rubbed the back of his neck. His whole back was sore, and one of his shoulders felt like a muscle might have been pulled. It was easily due to having dealt with an akuma the previous night, then trying to train so quickly after. Tiedoll had been right – Kanda _should_ have taken it easy.  
  
Kanda was loathe to admit it to Tiedoll’s face though. Knowing Tiedoll, he would shamelessly rub it into Kanda’s face in the most obnoxiously _fatherly_ way possible.  
  
_‘Whatever,’_ Kanda thought. He had experienced far worse injuries, and he had recovered just fine. A little muscle strain wouldn’t kill him.  
  
A small whisper of a breeze brushed by, and a few leaves fell to the ground. Kanda barely paid them any mind; he was too busy preoccupied gathering some herbs. Not that he needed to right then – it was more something he was doing to decompress, and to distract himself. Aside from fighting and training, it wasn’t as though Kanda really had much else to do.   Tiedoll had his art. Marie had his music. Daisya had his stupid sport of kicking a ball around (whatever he like to call “athletics”).  
  
And Kanda had...  
  
_‘…Nothing…’_  
  
A sword. Some herbs. It might as well have been nothing, given the cards that Kanda had been dealt. The innocence might as well have been nothing.  
  
Kanda shook his head, and somewhat roughly cut a few lavender stems. It never did him any good to dwell on such thoughts, or memories for that matter. Such things were pointless to Kanda. Pointless, and insignificant like little broken stems of grass – deadened along the edges, and crushed into the dirt.  
  
Not too far away, Kanda could hear someone exit the house, but he didn’t bother to look over. In his current state, Kanda could have cared less as to who it was – even if it were the royal. Kanda just wanted to be alone.  
  
_‘Just leave me alone…’_  
  
The wordless request was in vain, as Kanda could hear the person in question walk in his direction. Immediately, Kanda felt a wave of agitation brush over him, hot and scalding like a spark of flames. But, he recognized the gentle footsteps, and with a flicker of his eyes Kanda was able to see it was Marie.  
  
Well, at least Marie was bearable. Kanda could handle Marie.  
  
Silently, Kanda forced himself to try to calm down, but some of the agitated energy remained. He returned to focusing on cutting the lavender stems.  
  
Marie didn’t speak, and sat down near where Kanda was, with his back against the exterior wall of the house. He remained like that for a few moments, as Kanda continued to work, before he finally broke the silence with a gentle inquiry. “How are you feeling?”  
  
Kanda paused, as a frown appeared on his face. His eyes moved over to Marie as an edge of suspicion remained in them; quickly, Kanda resumed his cutting. “Why would you need to ask?” Kanda grumbled, not sure why Marie was _checking_ on him of all things. It wasn’t like Kanda _wasn’t_ fine. He was as fine as he could be.  
  
Marie leaned his head back, as he closed his eyes. He looked rather peaceful in that instant, almost as though he could have dozed off right then and there. Marie was anything but unconscious though, as he answered Kanda with ease. “You got attacked by an akuma last night, and got affected pretty badly. Just wanted to make sure you were actually feeling better,” Marie explained calmly. “Not that you’ll admit otherwise. I should know better.”  
  
The words caused Kanda’s frown to deepen, if only because Marie had nudged a nugget of truth: Kanda _wouldn’t_ admit to being affected poorly by something such as an attack. He never had been the type to do so, and it was likely a result of having a rather prideful disposition. Kanda couldn’t always help it, though; sometimes, he felt like his ego and pride were all he had left. He would be damned if he had to give that up as well.  
  
Still, somewhere in his chest, Kanda felt a faint tinge of something that was almost guilt – almost, but not quite. It came with the recognition that Marie only meant well, and had never meant anything less toward Kanda. Really, Kanda _should_ have been more grateful. It wasn’t as though Marie hadn’t been forced to give up things either. They had all lost things.  
  
Kanda exhaled, placing the knife down as he collected the stems. “I’m fine. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” Kanda answered. “Worrying over that shit is pointless.”  
  
Despite the seemingly negative answer, a faint smile befell Marie’s lips. “I guess I should worry less. You sound just as pleasant as ever,” He noted almost humorously. “Tiedoll has rubbed off on me.”  
  
Under his breath, Kanda scoffed. “Clearly…”  
  
There was a pause, and Marie spoke again, words conversational and light. “Alma seems like he’s doing alright. In case you’re worried.”  
  
Kanda fought the urge to sneer. “Why the hell would I be worried?” He asked, slightly annoyed by the way Marie had shifted the topic back to the _royal_. “I could care less about him.”  
  
Marie shrugged, as he brought his head back to a more upright position. His faded, pale eyes opened as he angled his face in Kanda’s direction briefly before facing more forward. “You just seemed a little concerned earlier. That and you went easy on him during your training.”  
  
Kanda whipped his head in Marie’s direction, eyes flashing irritably. He opened his mouth to argue, but Marie beat him to speaking, voice still calm. “I could tell by the sound of your movements.”  
  
Kanda glared, then looked away sharply. “I only held back because that session would have been over in 10 seconds otherwise,” Kanda countered icily. “And I _wasn’t_ concerned. I was just caught off guard by whatever it was that even happened.”  
  
“Just thought I’d let you know.”  
  
Kanda shifted a bit, moving his weight from one knee to the other as he knelt more upright. He normally didn’t mind Marie’s company, but the topic of conversation was grating onto Kanda’s nerves like sharp, metallic nails against glass. For this reason, Kanda opted to change the subject. “You and Tiedoll still planning to leave soon?”  
  
Marie nodded. “Tomorrow is when we’re thinking.”  
  
Nose crinkling a bit in annoyance, Kanda found himself still in slight opposition to the idea. “That’s still cutting it close,” Kanda pointed out lowly. “The guards might not have left yet.”  
  
“It’s possible,” Marie agreed. “But it’s a risk we take whenever we go anywhere.”  
  
A spark of bitterness seemed to gleam in Kanda’s eyes, as his jaw tightened a bit. The tension was already pooling into his shoulders like a series of constricting ropes.  
  
A risk. It was _always_ a risk to leave, and to even set foot outside those damned seal marks. Kanda knew this too well, as it was the reality that had so relentlessly ensnared him. The place they were in, the house they had found – abandoned at the time, with the occupants likely killed at the hands of akuma – was nothing but some prison masqueraded as quaintness. It was nothing any of them had chosen.  
  
This _life_ was nothing that any of them had chosen.  
  
Eyes focused on the lavender, Kanda’s eyes were distant, and frosted with something unfulfilled and even _regretful_.  
  
“Sorry…about this,” Kanda murmured, his voice oddly close to being inaudible.  
  
Despite the lack of volume, Marie’s acute hearing picked up on the words with ease. His expression was sober, as he continued to face forward. He knew that Kanda wasn’t one to ever really apologize for anything, but Marie knew all too well what Kanda’s words were referring to.  
  
“This wasn’t your fault,” Marie spoke. “We all know that.”  
  
A look of disgust passed over Kanda’s face, but he said nothing in response.  
  
Despite not being able to see Kanda, Marie could tell by the tension in the air that Kanda likely wouldn’t accept the reassurance. It was to be expected, and was always what seemed to happen when the conversation went in such a direction. Because of this, Marie knew only reiterating his stance would agitate Kanda more, and thus be started to move away from it.  
  
“We’ll be fine tomorrow,” Marie said, as he returned to the topic of him and Tiedoll leaving. “Tiedoll won’t let anyone recognize him.”  
  
Angling his face in Kanda’s direction, Marie then added with a smile. “And no one will recognize me,” He pointed out. “I’m a dead man as far as everyone else knows.”  
  
Had Kanda had any sense of humor and a lighter personality, he might have laughed. But Kanda wasn’t that way, and the point only seemed to emphasize how grim things were in the first place.  
  


* * *

  
  
_The woods. He was in the woods again.  
  
Alma looked around. Again, it was dark, and it was difficult to see. He had no idea which direction he had come from, or which way he needed to go in to get out of the woods.  
  
Inside, Alma could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t like being lost. He didn’t like not knowing where to go. It was just so dark, and it felt hard to breathe.  
  
_ ‘Breathe. Just try to breathe,’ _Alma tried to tell himself._ ‘You…can get out of here…’ _  
  
Alma tried to tell himself this, but he found it difficult to believe.  
  
Somewhere, deep down, something cold and frigid seemed to take hold of his heart, as it pulled it down slowly, and into the pit of his stomach. The air felt lodged in his throat, and Alma’s muscles refused to move.  
  
From behind, Alma could hear something. He was too afraid to turn around, and he didn’t want to see.  
  
Except Alma couldn’t do that. He knew he had to look, and to see what it was.  
  
Very hesitantly, Alma turned his head, and looked back.  
  
There was a flash of darkness, and yellow eyes. Cat-like, and scathingly toxic in their animosity – venomous and lethal. An animalistic hiss, and a glint of sharp claws. Claws that were about to-_  
  
Alma cried out, as he sat up in bed. His breathing was ragged, and there was cold sweat collecting on his skin. He looked around, slightly confused and lost, as Alma didn’t immediately register where he was. His pulse was still racing, and his heart was pounding speedily in his chest.  
  
Bed. Room. Inside. He was inside.  
  
Even in the darkness, Alma was eventually able to recall his surroundings. It took a bit longer than normal, if only because the house was still foreign in comparison to what Alma was used to. Stupidly, Alma actually found himself yearning for his own room, and his own bed, if only because the comfort of it was something Alma craved more than he cared to admit.  
  
Alma scolded himself for wishing for such a thing. He felt a little guilty for doing so, too; Alma had been so fortunate to have been found by Marie and Tiedoll, and he had no idea what he’d have done otherwise.  
  
Actually, Alma knew what he’d have done. He’d have done nothing, because he would have probably been dead.  
  
Alma took a deep breath, as his heart finally seemed to begin beating at a normal, steady rate. The nightmare had left him a bit shaken, but it wasn’t anything compared to the experience he had had earlier in the day while training Kanda.  
  
Inwardly, Alma cringed at the memory. He wasn’t sure what had happened exactly. One minute, he had been fighting with Kanda (and doing a _decent_ job for the most part), and the next it was like he had been somewhere else. Like he had been back in the woods with Suman, right before Suman had been about to-  
  
Alma stopped himself from thinking the words, as something acidic threatened to rise into the back of his throat.  
  
It hadn’t been Suman that Alma saw though. It had been Sheril. Sheril had appeared in the memory instead.  
  
Alma clutched the side of his head, pressing the fingers against his scalp forcefully. _‘Damn it, just get out of my head…’_  
  
Somewhat impulsively, Alma got out of bed. The floorboards creaked softly, and he remembered that it was probably sometime in the middle of the night. Alma didn’t want to wake anyone; he knew he already had caused something of a disruption earlier, and that didn’t even include the other chaos Alma had inadvertently caused since arriving. But, aside from asking Alma if he was alright, Marie hadn’t pressed further for details after bringing Alma back into the house earlier that day. And if Tiedoll had learned of anything, he didn’t question Alma either.  
  
It honestly had been a relief – Alma wasn’t sure how he would have been had they questioned him.  
  
Quietly, Alma crept to the door. He couldn’t hear anyone in the hall, and assumed that everyone must have been well asleep. That was good – Alma only wanted to stretch his legs, and get some water or something. Anything to distract himself.  
  
Again being careful not to make too much of a ruckus, Alma went downstairs. His eyes had fortunately already adjusted to the darkness, which helped since he was still becoming familiar with the new environment. However, Alma nearly stumbled over a slightly protruding floorboard when he entered into the kitchen, causing him to yelp.  
  
Alma caught himself, and waited. But, he heard nothing, and with relief realized that no one had woken up.  
  
Running a hand through his hair, Alma went to the table, and sat down, for a moment entirely blanking on getting water. Now that he was downstairs, he just felt _tired_ – yet, he was still restless. It was a bit annoying if anything. Alma wished he could have just stayed asleep, and not even woken up in the first place.  
  
Although, it did seem even sleeping was ill and poor in quality lately – which meant that it wouldn’t have done Alma much good in the first place.  
  
Alma folded his arms on the table, and placed his head down into them. It was a terrible position to rest in, but his eyelids were heavy, and he just needed a moment to clear his head. His thoughts felt clogged, and mind foggy – and god, he just couldn’t _rest_.  
  
The sound of a floorboard creaking caught Alma’s attention – faint but prominent enough against the silence to alert him. Alma looked up, focus returning. After a few seconds there was only silence, and Alma questioned as to whether he had heard anything in the first place.  
  
Alma placed his head back down, and again tried to clear his head.  
  
Another creak.  
  
Alma’s head shot up.  
  
He hadn’t imagined the noise that time – it had been too noticeable. But, Alma’s heart was already beginning to quicken in pace. Which, was silly. Four other people were in that house, so if it were anyone, it would obviously be one of them. Tiedoll, Marie, Daisya, or even Kanda – Alma wasn’t doing anything wrong, and had no reason to be anxious.  
  
However, the echoes of the dream loomed in Alma’s mind, and he found himself still tense.  
  
_‘But it was just a dream,’_ Alma tried to tell himself. _‘It was just a dream. Daisya placed seals. It’s fine. It’s safe-‘_  
  
“What are you _doing?_ ”  
  
Alma gasped, nearly jumping out of his seat. He just about knocked the chair over as he stood, but clamped his hand onto the back, preventing it from tipping over. The other speaker’s reflex had also kicked in, and their hand also made a grab for the chair, steadying it.  
  
Alma looked up, and immediately locked gazes with a pair of very irritable, dark blue eyes.  
  
“What the _hell_ is with you?” Kanda hissed, as he was clearly trying to keep his volume low due to the late hour. “You’re acting like you’re about to have a heart attack or some shit.”  
  
Alma could feel his cheeks heat up, before his expression became indignant. “Well, you _did_ just sneak up on me,” Alma argued, straining to keep his voice quiet as well. “That would have startled anyone…”  
  
Kanda didn’t appear all that satisfied with the answer, as he rolled his eyes. He then released his grip on the chair, though in the process Alma could feel Kanda’s skin brush against his briefly. It was a fleeting sensation, but one that Alma found strangely difficult to ignore.  
  
Crossing his arms, Kanda looked at Alma. “What are you even doing down here? It’s late.”  
  
Alma frowned, and averted his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep,” He answered, before he glanced back at Kanda, somewhat inquisitively. “Why are you awake?”  
  
“Tch. Because I could hear something – which I guess was _you_ ,” Kanda pointed out. “You’re not really quiet…”  
  
“I wasn’t trying to be loud on purpose,” Alma murmured. He was rather annoyed with Kanda’s blaming, but at the same time he was also too tired to get as riled up as he had previously with Kanda. Alma’s shoulders were slumped a bit in exhaustion, and there were slight bags under his eyes. “Sorry, though, about waking you…”  
  
The apology came a bit more quietly, and the wear was evident in Alma’s voice. Kanda seemed to have picked up on it, because he looked at the prince with a curious gaze, his hardened stare briefly dissolving.  
  
Only briefly though, as Kanda soon looked away. “It’s fine,” He answered, voice low.  
  
A rather awkward silence followed. Alma shifted his weight; after the training session, he had been a bit avoidant of Kanda. It had been easy, since Kanda didn’t appear to care to talk to Alma much to begin with, but at the same token that meant that Alma hadn’t engaged really with Kanda since earlier when he blacked out during their training session – a somewhat embarrassing outcome, when Alma had been the one to challenge Kanda in the first place.  
  
Alma supposed that he was lucky. Kanda had yet to rub it in his face, which Alma had more or less expected.  
  
Through the darkness, Kanda eyed Alma carefully. There was still a harshness to his expression: something permanent in its frigidness, and glazed with a wintry exterior that seemed to hide something shockingly scathing deep down. Like a fire, entrapped in a glacier, burning for oxygen yet trapped beneath thick layers of ice.  
  
Even through the poor lighting, Alma thought he caught a glimpse of something in Kanda’s eyes. But, it was late, and it may have been easily a figment of Alma’s imagination. Alma looked away again quickly.  
  
More silence passed, but neither Kanda nor Alma made a move to leave.  
  
“What happened earlier?”  
  
Alma blinked, and looked at Kanda bewilderedly. Kanda’s brow knitted together a bit, but he still kept his voice low, and even. “Earlier. When you did a 180 with wanting to fight.”  
  
_‘Oh,’_ Alma realized, catching on once Kanda clarified. Well, so much for thinking that Kanda would have let the incident go without saying _something_.  
  
Biting the inside of his cheek, Alma averted his gaze. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have answered Kanda; Alma wasn’t really the type to ignore others if they were starting some kind of conversation in most circumstances. However, the topic was uneasy for Alma, and he truthfully didn’t understand what had happened either. He could once again feel himself becoming self-conscious having instigated the ordeal, and could only imagine how weird it must have seemed to Kanda overall.  
  
Alma could feel Kanda’s attention on him, and felt a compulsion to say something – anything, really. “I…” Alma tried to say, but the words kept slipping away, dissolving into nothing before they could even leave his throat.  
  
Damn, how pathetic he must have seemed – Alma couldn’t even get out a simple _sentence_ out around Kanda.  
  
Kanda uncrossed his arms. He seemed to have come to the conclusion that he just wasn’t going to get any other real answer from Alma, and shifted his focus to elsewhere in the kitchen. Without warning, Kanda walked over, and grabbed something that had been laying out on one of the shelves.  
  
After doing so, Kanda returned and shoved whatever it was into Alma’s grasp.  
  
Alma looked down, confused, but before he could register what it was he was holding, he immediately noticed the smell; soothingly fragrant, and floral. It was the smell he had noticed earlier when passing that garden.  
  
Alma looked at Kanda questioningly. “Um…what’s this…?”  
  
“Tch. It’s that lavender you were nosing about,” Kanda grumbled. “If you can’t sleep just put it under your pillow or something. Marie uses it sometimes.”  
  
Surprise colored Alma’s expression, and oddly enough, he felt something inside his chest jump a hair. It was a bit weird to be receiving anything from Kanda that didn’t involve a dig or violent threat, and Alma scrambled to speak. “Ah, thanks. I’ll use it,” Alma spoke. He managed a small smile. “That’s really nice of you.”  
  
Kanda scoffed, immediately clashing against the compliment. “I don’t want to keep getting woken up is all,” He muttered, as he broke his gaze away. “Just go back to sleep already.”  
  
The roughness in Kanda’s tone was still present, but not as potent as it normally was. Perhaps it was because Kanda was tired – that was what Alma suspected, at least. Alma nodded his head.   “Okay…” He said, before looking at Kanda a bit hesitantly. “Um, goodnight.”  
  
Kanda didn’t bother to respond, opting to end the conversation right there.  
  
Knowing there wasn’t anything else to say, Alma somewhat awkwardly left after that. He at first wasn’t sure if Kanda might have gone back upstairs as well, but even after Alma had made his way back up to his room, he didn’t hear Kanda come up the stairs, signifying he had remained downstairs.  
  
This seemed a bit odd, but Alma tried not to think of it, or why Kanda might have decided to stay awake. Maybe Kanda hadn’t had been able to sleep either.  
  
Alma just tried to push these questions out of his mind, as he attempted to fall asleep while smelling lavender.  


* * *

  
  
The candlelight flickered in the darkness. The wax melted down, trickling like ivory tears as it burned; it fell into a milky puddle tinged with the warm light of a flame, and as the flame danced it casted trembling shadows along the walls.  
  
Lavi tried to focus, as the smell of old paper and ink filled his nostrils. He had been awake for hours now, continuing to read and translate as he had been directed to do so. As always, it was tedious work; Lavi’s eyes would periodically threaten to close, but with how active his mind was he was managing to do well enough. It helped to have such a thirst for knowing things – it kept Lavi awake, and kept him wondering. Reading and translating only helped to satiate it.  
  
Focusing on a few pages in particular, a small, reflective frown appeared on Lavi’s face. There was an intense look in his one visible eye, as he closely examined the text of what he was currently looking at.  
  
It was something that had been written down years ago – well before Lavi had been born. The ink was heavily faded, and part of the page had been torn. Thankfully, the text had been spared, although the illustration – a person, seemingly unconscious and with strange, black markings on their flesh – was missing part of their body as the edge of the page had torn through them.  
  
Lavi had seen something similar before though, and the connection was one that he didn’t find himself at ease with.  
  
Moving the page aside, Lavi began to continue with some others. The rest were also old documents, but seemed to focus on another topic.  
  
The Noah.  
  
The attentiveness of Lavi’s focus remained, as he mused over the topic. No one knew much about the Noah – not even the Bookman Clan. The Noah had made themselves scarce throughout the years, and no one had even caught a glimpse of them in decades. Their purpose, their goals – it was all a mystery, and all anyone really knew was that they controlled akuma. That, and they sought to destroy innocence.  
  
Who were they, though? Lavi had questioned it so many times, and no matter what texts he found to devour, nothing every really presented a solid explanation. Many of the older documents that held traces of the Noah didn’t even call them by such a name. Sometimes they were priests, who controlled monsters, and other times they were demons themselves who sent out minions. Each country had its own lore on them from the locals, and each explanation – although sharing key elements – never was enough to compile a single answer.  
  
Lavi paused, as a yawn escaped him. He noticed that his shoulders were beginning to feel rather stiff from being hunched over for so long, so he leaned back to try to stretch out the tension.  
  
The door to the study Lavi was in opened, and Bookman walked in. Lavi had jumped a little, not having expected the old man to show up so suddenly. Not with such a sense of urgency.  
  
Lavi’s eyebrow arched, as he looked over at Bookman uncertainly. “Um, what’s up?”  
  
Bookman’s expression was severe – which was even more emphasized by the candlelight. His dark eyes locked onto Lavi, as he spoke in swift, clipped words. “Get your things together. We’re returning to Engelus.”  
  
“Wait, already? I’m not opposed, but didn’t we just leave there not even a week ago?” Lavi questioned, not sure why they would already be returning so quickly. They were just getting settled back in with things at Lyons, which was more of less where they were stationed when not on assignments or traveling.  
  
“Yes, already,” Bookman reiterated snappishly. “And we’re leaving as soon as you have your things, so _get a move on_.”  
  
The way in which Bookman spoke was startling to Lavi. Normally, the man could be cranky, but for the most part was otherwise composed. But now, Bookman was agitated – more so than usual, and for Lavi, it was alarming.  
  
It was alarming, and it couldn’t have meant anything good.  
  
Face turning stony, Lavi met Bookman’s gaze. “What happened?” He asked, tone becoming serious.  
  
Bookman answered without delay. “It seems the prince has disappeared. An unlikely coincidence, given he was found to be an accommodator only recently,” Bookman explained. “We best get there as quickly as possible.”  
  
Lavi’s eye widened. “Alma’s missing? Since _when_?”  
  
“Not long after we left, apparently,” Bookman responded. He eyed Lavi shrewdly. “Keep that expression of yours in check, and don’t forget our purpose when returning there. It’s imperative we don’t get distracted in a situation such a this.”  
  
Lavi immediately drew back, as he reeled in the startled look that had pooled outward. He looked away, and nodded.  
  
Bookman watched Lavi for a second, before speaking. “Hurry now. If we leave soon, we can make by tomorrow tonight by traveling straight through.”  
  
Lavi inwardly grimaced. It would be a rushed trip, and very tedious – but they had done longer distances. He would be fine.  
  
But, Lavi was a Bookman. He had no choice but to be fine.  
  
~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m tired. So tired. I had to work today (ugh it’s a Saturday and it shouldn’t have happened because I work typical Mon-Fri hourly work but ahaha I got pulled in for no reason so that bitter, unrelated fanfic tangent aside XD) but I stillllll wanted this up. I just finished 19 this morning, so it’s getting chugged at. Slowly, but surely. XD
> 
> This chapter moved around a bit in terms of POV, and ah. It serves me right for taking on a lengthier, more complicated plot. I can’t exactly ignore certain scenes or else nothing will make sense later on, and I wanted to revisit things back at the castle and the fallout there with Alma’s disappearance. 
> 
> I also wanted to focus a bit on Kanda. He’s such a moody asshole that it can be hard to understand where he’s coming from, and it still is since it hasn’t exactly been divulged just //what// happened to him - though it was definitely something, and he’s carrying a lot of negative emotions from the experience. Marie knows, and is a good anchor; I just really like writing them together in general, and honestly the exchange between them was very much like what I wrote early on in Lotus in the Snow (so...if you read that you might have had flashbacks reading this, as well with the lavender Kanda gives Alma since it’s sort of like the arnica bit in LitS).
> 
> But, some development between Kanda and Alma! If only baby steps. XD AND LAVI. IS BACK. AWH YEAAAAA. I’m really excited to be bringing him in more, and ahaha, exploring his role later on in this story. He’ll be key for sure.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As I’ve been doing, I’ll be trying to get the next update up next weekend. So far I’m keeping with these weekly updates. So far. Knock on wood. XD


	16. Remnants Intertwined

Morning came, and with it came daylight. Even before Alma opened his eyes, he could feel the small tinge of warmth pouring through the glass. It was calming, and paired with the floral scent from beneath his pillow, Alma for once found himself able to actually _relax_ – something that in the past few days had seemed an impossibility.  
  
Eyes still closed, Alma tried to savor it. He wanted to cherish that small, quiet moment while he could. Everything had just been so tumultuous lately, and to finally just be at ease was a more than a trifle blessing.  
  
Alma rolled over, as his face pressed into the pillow. He took a breath, and again inhaled the soothing scent of the lavender flowers he had placed there. _‘They’re so calming,’_ Alma thought. He had never realized how helpful flowers could be with falling asleep.  
  
Eventually, Alma’s eyes opened, still sleepy but the same bright blue as always.   He was still on his side, with the covers pulled over him, warm and safely wrapped up. Alma was actually beginning to finally get used to the bed, which probably also was helping his sleep.   
  
However, there was a brief yearning to be elsewhere-  
  
_Home._  
  
Swiftly, Alma reached under the pillow, and pulled out one of the lavender stems. He pressed it against his face, as he took in the scent, soothing himself. Distracting himself.   
  
The lavender helped to relax Alma, and for that he was thankful. Somehow, the scent eased the dull ache in his core as well.  
  
It eased it, but it didn’t eradicate it.  
  
Alma sighed. His gaze rested on the lavender stem, as he took it the lovely, purple color.   
  
As he did this, Kanda’s face flashed through Alma’s mind.  
  
Alma just stared at the lavender, as his thoughts began to turn. Kanda was…difficult to understand. Alma really wasn’t certain what to make of him. Kanda was more or less an unpleasant person to be around; he wasn’t that easy to talk to, and seemed to get angry at every single thing.   
  
So, receiving lavender from Kanda had been one of the last things that Alma would have expected.  
  
_‘Maybe he really was just annoyed I woke him up,’_ Alma thought, though a part of him found him unwilling to accept that was the only reason. Or, maybe Alma was just grasping at straws, and was just looking for some good like he always seemed to do.  
  
As he realized this, a slightly bitter taste entered Alma’s mouth. He had wanted to believe others had meant well, and been proven wrong – horribly so.   
  
Alma clutched at the sheets softly, and silently took in one last breath of the lavender’s scent.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kanda asked, as he looked at Tiedoll with pensive eyes. His arms were crossed as he leaned back against the wall, watching as Tiedoll had finished placing the last of a few supplies into a bag.  
  
Tiedoll nodded, as he looked back at Kanda. “We really need to look into any akuma activity – especially if it’s the same area that’s getting attacked,” He explained. “Marie and I can be sure to check the area where you and Alma dealt with that other akuma as well. By now the toxins should be out of the air.”  
  
Kanda didn’t appear all that appeased by the response, but didn’t outright argue with Tiedoll. He knew that Tiedoll was firm in his belief that exorcists should be proactive in using their abilities to help eliminate akuma, and even track down innocence if possible. It was something Kanda had to give Tiedoll credit for, and one of the things Kanda _had_ come to respect – even back when he first met Tiedoll.   
  
An image flashed through Kanda’s mind. Dirty hands. Scrubbing floors. Kanda had been on the lowest end of the social hierarchy, even long before he had become an exorcist.  
  
_“What’s your name?”  
  
The boy didn’t look up; he wasn’t supposed to look people in the eye, and most certainly not those who were above him in any kind of social status. Somewhat tensely, the boy continued to scrub the floors.  
  
The man watched the boy with a contemplative gaze. The child couldn’t have been older than ten or so, with black hair pulled back into a tiny stub of a ponytail, and surprisingly cool blue eyes for someone so young.   
  
Again, the man spoke. “My name is Tiedoll.”  
  
The boy paused, though he still didn’t look at Tiedoll. He did, however, scrunch up his nose as though in disgust, before he again tried to ignore the man.  
  
Tiedoll stared. His eyes softened a bit as he watched the boy scrub away, with a shockingly hard exterior that shouldn’t have been present in any child. It was disheartening, really; Tiedoll had seen the boy around the castle often, always doing dirt work and never speaking. For the most part, he was completely ignored, and nothing more than a shadow walking about.  
  
Except, Tiedoll had seen the boy. Glancing outside longingly. Yearning for something else. Fleeting glimpses, but present nevertheless.  
  
Tiedoll was gentle in his volume, yet remained direct. “You work inside so much – would you prefer to be outside?”  
  
This caused the boy to stop his activity, as he looked at Tiedoll. His expression was still one of a frown, though it was not as pinched, and his eyes held a spark of wary intrigue.  
  
“If you’d rather work in the gardens, I can see if you’d be able to go out there instead of being in here. They’re in need of more gardeners,” Tiedoll offered, before adding with a small smile. “You’d have to tell me your name though. I can’t recommend you otherwise.”  
  
The boy wavered, as he appeared to ponder the offer. He still seemed rather cautious, but finally, he spoke in a barely audible voice.  
  
“Yuu…”  
  
_ “Kanda,” Tiedoll said, as he caught the other exorcist’s attention.  
  
Kanda looked over at Tiedoll, who wore a more serious expression. “What?” Kanda asked, not sure if he liked the somber look that the other man was wearing.  
  
Tiedoll sighed. “Kanda…please try to keep things under control while we’re gone,” He requested. As he spoke, a hint of weariness could be detected in his words; they were weighed down, and oddly _tired._ “I’m trusting you to do that.”  
  
The words caused Kanda’s breath to hitch a bit, as he all but felt the weight of the words, leaded and heavy. _“I’m trusting you to do that.”_  
  
Bitterness trickled down Kanda’s throat. Tiedoll trusting Kanda had caused trouble before, and Kanda knew this. He almost wished that Tiedoll would stop. He almost wished that Tiedoll would have just given up on him, and moved on with his life two years ago, when he could have at least have had a shot of having a life that didn’t require hiding or secrecies.  
  
But, Kanda had been too weak. He had been desperate for help, and impulsively taken it when Tiedoll had offered it two years ago.   
  
With this burning in Kanda’s conscience, he nodded. Kanda might not have liked the situation. He might not have liked getting stuck with a royal, but if Tiedoll was going to ask him to really keep a hold on things, then Kanda would…at the very least make _some_ effort.  
  
Tiedoll appeared eased by the wordless response, as he finished getting his things together. “I’ve already spoken with Daisya this morning, so Marie and I will be able to leave shortly,” He answered. Tiedoll then looked at Kanda. “Do you know if Alma was awake yet? I hadn’t seen him this morning.”  
  
Kanda shrugged, though the corners of his mouth threatened to downturn as he thought about the previous night, where he had discovered the prince awake and restless.   
  
“No idea,” Kanda murmured, though he fleetingly wondered if Alma had been able to get any sleep after their interaction. Kanda knew that he had struggled.  
  
He would never admit such a thing, but the knowledge lingered all the same.  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “I see,” He said. “Well, I’ll see if I can find him.”  
  
Tiedoll left the room after that, leaving Kanda alone. Kanda lingered only for a few seconds before he too left, heading down the hall. Before he could go downstairs, he happened to pause by the small room Alma was staying in; as Kanda did this, he could see the door was a bit ajar.  
  
Kanda glanced in briefly, and saw the prince wasn’t inside. On the bed, Kanda caught a glimpse of the lavender.  
  
A few seconds passed, and Kanda realized he was staring at spot where the flowers remained. Quickly, he tore his gaze away, and moved on.  
  
Kanda had just made it downstairs, before he could pick up on the sound of someone talking – or more so exclaiming _very_ loudly.  
  
“That tastes so _good_!”  
  
Kanda exhaled through his nose, as he already felt a nerve twitch as he recognized the prince’s gratingly excitable voice. Well, if anything Kanda knew that Alma must have gotten _some_ shuteye – the prince would have had to, considering how energetic he sounded.   
  
Entering into the kitchen, Kanda managed to catch a bit more of the conversation – which was currently being carried by Daisya’s crow of laughter.  
  
“I can’t believe you’ve never tried freakin’ _mayo,_ ” Daisya was laughing, looking as he was about to fall into hysterics. He was at the table, where Alma sat across from him, wide-eyed, and with a spoonful of mayonnaise. “How have you never had it!?”  
  
Marie, who was next to Daisya, turned his face toward him. “I don’t think it’s really used in Engelus. It’s more common in Lyons.”  
  
Alma, who was still somehow enthralled with this new discovery of a condiment, immediately chimed in. “It _should_ be used more – I can’t believe I only just now got to try it!”  
  
Kanda stared blankly, then glanced over at Tiedoll, who was also in the kitchen. “He seriously got this excited over a damn condiment?” Kanda asked in a flat, judgmental tone.  
  
Tiedoll shrugged. “He found enlightenment in a jar,” He stated simply, before smiling at Kanda. “But this means you won’t have to worry about him going near the stove, so there.”  
  
Kanda sneered quietly. He’d be damned if he let the idiot royal near the stove again.  
  
Tiedoll approached Marie. “We should leave soon. It’ll take us a bit to get to our destination,” He said, speaking a bit more softly.   
  
Marie heard well enough, and nodded. “Well, I’m good to go if you are.”  
  
Alma caught a bit of the conversation, and looked over at Tiedoll and Marie inquisitively. “You’re leaving?” Alma asked, though he recalled Tiedoll having mentioned the previous day that he and Marie would be heading off for a bit.  
  
Tiedoll looked over at Alma, and smiled. “Ah, we shouldn’t be gone too long. Just a few days,” He reassured. “Kanda’s reassured me he’ll behave, and Daisya knows to do the same as well.”  
  
Daisya snorted. “You know, I _was_ the oldest in my family. I can be responsible.”  
  
“I know – that’s why I said you know to do the same,” Tiedoll reiterated good-naturedly. “We’ll be back soon.”  
  
Marie got up shortly after that, where he and Tiedoll then prepared to leave. Marie, like Tiedoll, had already had everything he needed put together – which wasn’t much. Both of them were traveling light, making it easy to move and only bringing with them what was most necessary, and heading outside to start their journey.  
  
Kanda followed them out, just before the other two men departed. Once they were outside, Kanda spoke. “Tiedoll,” He said, catching Tiedoll’s attention just as Marie stopped a bit farther away.  
  
Tiedoll turned, and looked at Kanda. Kanda shifted. “If…something happens-“  
  
“You already know what to do,” Tiedoll spoke, voice a notch lower. “I know Alma’s here, but if Marie and I don’t return, you and Daisya do as discussed.”  
  
Hearing this, Kanda looked wary, and a begrudging look appeared in his eyes. He nodded.  
  
Tiedoll placed a hand on Kanda’s shoulder, causing the other exorcist to meet him in the eye. “Don’t worry, Yuu,” Tiedoll assured. “We’ve been in harder situations.”  
  
There was the sound of movement, and Tiedoll and Kanda both turned. Kanda was mildly annoyed to see Alma had come out, all while looking a tad abashed at having been caught interrupting them.  
  
“Ah, I just wanted to say have a safe trip before you guys left,” Alma offered, with a slightly sheepish smile.  
  
Tiedoll smiled kindly. “It’s much appreciated,” He said, before glancing between Kanda and Alma. “Take care. Make sure Daisya doesn’t break anything.”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes at the request, whereas Alma looked more or less amused.  
  
Tiedoll and Marie left after that, where Alma was left outside with Kanda. Once the other two exorcists had departed, Alma glanced at Kanda with inquisitive eyes.  
  
Kanda noticed, and glared over in Alma’s direction. “What?” He asked, somewhat sharply.  
  
Alma jumped a bit at the roughness in which Kanda spoke, then broke his gaze. “Oh, I just…thought I heard Tiedoll call you something else when I was coming outside. Yuu?” Alma asked, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Is it a nickname?”  
  
A wave of tension passed over Kanda’s shoulders, and he looked away abruptly. “That’s none of your business. Don’t eavesdrop on people.”  
  
Alma’s cheeks flushed, as he turned to Kanda, expression a pout-like frown. “I wasn’t eavesdropping! I just heard it as I came out,” He explained. “And I was only wondering…since everyone else calls you Kanda…”  
  
Kanda’s face twisted into annoyance. “It’s just something Tiedoll calls me occasionally,” He muttered.  
  
Alma looked at Kanda curiously, and before he could stop himself the question slipped off his tongue. “Why?”  
  
Kanda’s head turned in Alma’s direction abruptly, as he glared. “It’s my first name – so will you shut up, and stop asking?” Kanda snapped, not even caring at this point whether he had divulged that detail. He just wanted Alma to stop _badgering_ him.  
  
Genuine surprise appeared in Alma’s bright blue eyes, as though he hadn’t actually anticipated a real answer from Kanda. “Oh,” He said, looking as though he were still processing this new information. He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s a nice name…why don’t you go by it?”  
  
Kanda felt a nerve twitch, as he all but glowered at Alma. Was it just _impossible_ for the prince to stop being a nosey nuisance?  
  
Alma seemed to have realized his error, and quickly tried to remedy it. “Sorry! I just always thought Kanda was your first name,” Alma apologized. He then smiled meekly. “I like it though.”  
  
“Tch. I don’t care if you like it. Don’t use it,” Kanda grumbled. He crossed his eyes, as he glanced at Alma with an edge of suspicion. “You’re annoyingly talkative today…” He observed, noticing that Alma was being insistently chatty. Not that Kanda should’ve been too surprised – Alma seemed to be quite talkative in general, even when they weren’t getting along. It was almost impressive, really.  
  
Shifting a bit, Alma rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, well…” He started to say, though he suddenly seemed a bit awkward, and even slightly shy. Almost like he was clamming up with his own words.  
  
Impatience brimming, Kanda abruptly started walking. “Whatever. I have things to do,” He spoke, as he walked off, disappearing back into the house.  
  
Alma stared after Kanda. Nearby, his eyes flickered off to the small garden patch nearby where several stems of lavender remained.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Watching. Always watching.  
  
That was what she did: watch. It was something that came naturally to her, like a bird taking to flight. It was instinctual, and even intuitive.   
  
_Predatory._  
  
Lulu Bell had been keeping a close eye on the exorcist that Sheril had sent to kill Alma. The failure of a man – _Suman_ – was all too easy to trail. The exorcists in general could only be in so many places without giving some kind of notice, as they were essentially imprisoned soldiers, and nothing more than dogs to do as the royals commanded. Even with the leniency given to the two exorcists in Engelus, that fact still loomed above their heads.  
  
Lulu Bell had no trouble using it to her advantage – with Suman, and with Klaud.  
  
Of course, Klaud was more of a challenge. Lulu Bell couldn’t always pin just what it was the general was doing; Suman was so easy to read, but more often than not Klaud wore an icy mask to conceal whatever it was she was thinking.   
  
It was frustrating to Lulu Bell, but nothing that she hadn’t dealt with before.  
  
Silently, Lulu Bell watched.   Her attention was currently on the exorcist general. Klaud had just returned with a finder, as well as several guards –another search party, destined to fail and having returned with nothing. Lulu Bell could see by the solemn expressions the group wore. Klaud in particular seemed distressed, as unease cracked through the cool exterior she so often projected.  
  
Lulu Bell’s eyes gleamed, as she frowned. She was disguised by as a mere human servant – easy to miss, and often looked over. It was the form she took when tormenting Suman, and reminding him of his word to remain silent.  
  
Still, Lulu Bell remained off to the shadows, where she could disappear at a moment’s notice.  
  
Her expression was pensive. The general was distressed, but not broken; something annoying, and also intriguing. Lulu Bell had kept a close eye on Klaud to ensure she might not try something that could threaten the plans that Sheril had put into place; she had watched, and observed. And Klaud had been irritatingly good at covering her tracks – if she had any to cover to begin with.  
  
Lulu Bell suspected that Klaud was hiding something. Somewhere, something was off.  
  
Where Klaud was, she was speaking with one of the guards. However, she paused as she seemed to take note of something, and turned in Lulu Bell’s direction.  
  
But by that time, Lulu Bell had disappeared, and melted away into the darkness.  
  


* * *

  
  
Klaud was pacing. She didn’t do such often – only when anxious. And right now, she was _anxious_.  
  
Lau Shimin chattered, somewhat nervously, yet in an almost endearingly way to soothe the general. Taking notice of this, Klaud paused, and exhaled. “I’m sorry,” She apologized to the small monkey as he remained on her shoulder. “I know you’re just as worried.”  
  
The monkey chattered, and Klaud glanced around. She was waiting in a room, after having just been questioned. Of course, the questioning had gone as fine as it could have; it had been tense, and uneasy, but Klaud had nothing to hide. However, she had not been able to deny how chilling it had been to be standing there, before Tricia, Sheril, and several CROWs to answer whatever questions they had regarding the last day Alma that had been seen.  
  
Klaud sighed. The questioning had been thorough, but even with it being over her heart was pounding oddly fast in her chest. She of course, could have retired – but such a thing was out of the question. Especially when Suman was being questioned at that moment.  
  
Crossing her arms, Klaud sat down in a nearby chair. Suman was in the connected chamber being interrogated, and for some reason, it made Klaud nervous. She didn’t know why. Klaud had worked close with Suman for seven years now, and knew the man well; he was a good person, and took his role as an exorcist seriously. Yet, something had seemed _wrong_ lately. Klaud couldn’t quite place it, but Suman just hadn’t seemed alright. He hadn’t seemed normal.  
  
Then again, nothing had felt normal in days.  
  
After what felt like an excruciatingly long period of time, the doors opened, and Suman exited.   
  
Klaud stood, and looked at him with anxious, gem-hued eyes. “What happened?”  
  
Suman paused, as he looked at Klaud. His skin was strangely pallid, and Klaud could see a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Suman tore his gaze away. “Fine…I just told them what I knew,” He answered lowly, and somewhat strained.  
  
Klaud frowned. “You don’t seem all that well,” She commented observingly.   
  
Suman shook his head. “It’s nothing…” He said, before exhaling heavily. “I haven’t been able to sleep much these past few nights.”  
  
That much Klaud could understand, although she was still uncertain as to whether something else might have been going on. “Not many of us have been able to given what’s happened,” She expressed quietly. “I’m going to see if I can go to the west end of the grounds though, where the woods start. We only looked there briefly yesterday.”  
  
Hearing this, Suman’s body seemed to tense a bit, but he nodded.   
  
Noticing this, Klaud’s eyes flashed to Suman’s, but he avoided eye contact. Klaud frowned.   
  
Before she could say anything, the doors opened again. This time, the queen was exiting, and with her, was Sheril.   
  
Neither of them looked as though they planned to bother speaking to Klaud or Suman, as they were accompanied by a few guards as they went to exit into the hall and out the connecting room. Klaud watched though, taking in Tricia’s appearance: pale, forlorn, and grief-stricken. In many ways, it reminded Klaud of the way Tricia had appeared after the late king’s death.  
  
Sheril, however, was composed.   
  
Klaud watched, and by chance, Sheril face shifted in her direction. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, and Klaud felt her blood run cold.  
  
Then, Sheril turned away as he exited out of the room with Tricia.  
  
Something was wrong. Very wrong. Klaud knew it, and she could _feel_ it. There was no concrete evidence, or anything tangible that she could go by; but, Klaud had been in the presence of foul play before. Klaud had seen the ugliness that shadows could harbor.  
  
She thought this, yet Klaud divulged none of this to Suman. Instead, she remained silent.  
  


* * *

  
  
The sun had already begun to dissolve into darkness, as the faint glow of dusk painted the cool, evening sky. People were still awake, but the energy was low, and the atmosphere of the castle had grown somber over the past few days. A noticeable tension seemed to linger, like poisonous venom as it gradually spread throughout the veins of some frail, unsuspecting creature.  
  
Bookman noticed this instantly upon their arrival to the castle.  
  
When they arrived at the castle gates, the guards immediately intercepted their carriage. “State your business,” One of the burlier guards ordered.  
  
Before the carriage driver could speak, Bookman did so, speaking through the window of the carriage. “You’ve gotten stricter,” He noticed. “My apprentice and I have come from Lyons.”  
  
The guard, upon recognizing Bookman, quickly backed down. He turned to the other guards. “They’re from the Bookman Clan. Let them through.”  
  
The guards nodded, and moved aside so the carriage could pass through.  
  
As the carriage went along, Bookman sat back.   
  
Lavi’s attention remained on the window, as his expression was serious. “They’ve gotten less friendly…”  
  
“It’s expected, all things considering,” Bookman commented. His eyes moved to meet Lavi’s. “I imagine there’s been quite a security crackdown. A royal disappearing isn’t a light matter.”  
  
Lavi remained somber, and to this said nothing. His focus continued to remain on the window.  
  
They came to a stop just outside the castle entrance, where both Bookman and Lavi exited the carriage. Once they were out, there were a few additional guards, who looked prepared to ask what it was that anyone from the Bookman Clan would be doing there.  
  
Bookman beat them by speaking first. “We came after receiving word of Prince Alma’s disappearance,” He spoke firmly.   
  
As Bookman was saying this, someone else came out from the castle entrance, and when Bookman looked he saw it was none other than Sheril Kamelot.  
  
Composed as ever, Sheril maintained a calm exterior. “Bookman,” He greeted. “I had no idea you were returning so soon after having just left.”  
  
There was an almost icy undertone to Sheril’s words, but Bookman didn’t let it faze him. “Yes, considering that my apprentice and I had planned to be checking on the prince’s progress as an accommodator, it seemed important we be here,” He spoke. “We are Bookmen, after all. Perhaps we could be of assistance.”  
  
Like lightning, a frosty look flashed in Sheril’s eyes. “Of course. I’m sure the queen would appreciate it immensely.”  
  
“As would you I’d imagine – considering this _is_ your stepson who’s missing,” Bookman noted pointedly.   
  
As Bookman said this, Lavi eyed Sheril, standing just a few feet behind Bookman.  
  
Sheril remained unresponsive for a second, then tilted his head forward in a nod. “Most certainly. It’s absolutely tragic to think of someone with so much potential simply…disappearing,” He replied carefully.  
  
Before Bookman could speak again, Sheril added, “I’m afraid, you wouldn’t be able to meet with Queen Tricia tonight. But tomorrow you will be able to speak with her.”  
  
Bookman nodded. “Thank you, especially for going through the trouble of accommodating us for the night,” He offered politely.  
  
Sheril turned to some of the guards. “See that they’re taken care of for the night,” He ordered coolly.  
  
The guards nodded, as they accompanied Bookman and Lavi inside.  
  
Once they were gone, Sheril turned to the remaining guards. “I’ll be going for a walk. The air will do well to clear my head,” He expressed, before heading off. He walked briskly, and off to where some of the gardens were on the more northern part of the castle grounds. Sheril did not stop walking until he was a safe distance from where the guards had been, out of earshot and hidden away into the dusky illumination of the setting sun, amongst the flowers preparing to fall back into the earth as autumn continued to take hold.  
  
The sound of laughter, light and cruelly melodious, tickled Sheril’s ears. He glanced over, spying a nearby tree with a swing. On it, was Road.   
  
“So Bookman came?” Road asked, as her words trickled with intrigue. She was still swinging lightly, but her eyes gleamed, as her attention remained focused on Sheril.  
  
“It seems so,” Sheril responded. He did not share the lightness in which Road spoke though, and instead he remained cooler, and more severe. Sheril looked at Road. “We should act fast. I don’t want those damned Bookmen seeking anything out.”  
  
Road smirked, as the swing drew to a halt. “Lulu Bell thinks Klaud has been up to something. I bet she was the one who called them.”  
  
Sheril could feel himself seethe slightly. “That exorcist never knows when to quit,” He spoke, voice low and scathing, like an angry serpent’s hiss. He calmed himself though, as he eyed Road questioningly. “Have Tiedoll and Marie left yet?”  
  
Road kicked back as she swung a bit more. “They left this morning. They’ll probably be in that village in the next two days or so,” She commented conversationally, as she leaned her head back. “I let Tyki know – he knew where it was, so we won’t have to worry about them.”  
  
Sheril nodded. “Good,” He spoke, as his eyes remained hard. However, a thin, cold smile pulled at his lips. “You’re overdue for that play date you wanted.”  
  
Slowing to a stop, Road’s smirk broadened. “I am,” She confirmed. “I hope you know that means I’m going to make the most of it.”  
  
“By all means,” Sheril said. “Just be sure that you’re thorough in whatever you do.”  
  
Road grinned, as she eyed some nearby flowers. “Oh. I will be _very_ thorough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a slightly shorter chapter than normal, and wasn’t the most exciting to write (for me at least), but it did feel necessary in terms of transition and showing what’s occurring back in Engelus while Alma is gone. Sheril is definitely planning something, but there’s a method in which he’s working that requires a lot of precision (and...a lot of build up for me to write). Hopefully, within the next few chapters it’ll start to come together more with just /what/ it is he’s trying to accomplish, and how it links into the rest of this universe plot-wise.
> 
> Speaking of plot, we got one /little/ snippet of a flashback for Kanda and what his life was prior to becoming an accommodator. Obviously, more is on the way, but ah. It was a scene I wanted to include regarding one of the first times Kanda interacted with Tiedoll, and showing just how long they’ve known each other.
> 
> Also, mayo. I finally got a scene with mayo into this fic. XD (I had really wanted to do something from the get-go with Alma never having tried mayo until he was with the other exorcists; it just seemed like a nice, light little distraction given some of the heavier moments that will be in this fic.)
> 
> The next chapter will definitely be more intense, so ice cream is advised for when that comes. Or tea. Whatever comforts you most. XD
> 
> Happy Saturday! <3


	17. Night of Terror

After Tiedoll and Marie left, the rest of the day had been uneventful. Considering how rocky things had been from the start, Alma didn’t mind this; he was for the most part able to keep company with Daisya, only breaking away for a bit during the day to try to practice with his anti-akuma weapon.  
  
Aside from the “training” he had engaged in with Kanda, Alma had hardly done anything of the sort. The prince had begun to feel restless, and his muscles twitched for some kind of activity. A part of Alma deeply yearned for his old archery equipment, as well. It would have been nice to simply practice shooting, and not have to deal with the anti-akuma weapon that was melded into his own flesh. It would have nice to have done something that felt familiar, and just… _normal_.  
  
Alma didn’t have that option, though, and was only yearning for something he couldn’t have.  
  
Having gone outside, Ama found an area a bit away from the house, a little more secluded but still within range of the seal marks. He glanced around, not really certain as to what to use as a target; it wasn’t like he was be shooting with an ordinary arrow.  But, he eventually focused on a tree, not sure what else could have been used.  
  
Alma activated his innocence. He fired a shot, and Alma watched as the arrow materialized, before it hit the trunk of the tree. With interest, Alma saw that the arrow dissolved after hitting it, leaving only a small scorch mark.  
  
_‘Weird. Maybe it can tell when I’m only practicing or something…_ ’ He thought. Alma glanced at the bow. He wondered if there were any other kinds of attacks it could do, or if shooting was the extent of it. In the back of his mind, Alma found himself questioning if Klaud would have had any insight; she had always known far more about the innocence than Alma did.  
  
_‘I wonder what Klaud’s doing now…’_ Alma thought, as he fired another shot. How many days had Alma been gone now? Nearly a week? The time was beginning to grow a bit muddled together in Alma’s mind, but that seemed about right.    
  
But now, Alma found his thoughts inching back to what might have happened at the castle. Was Suman alright? It had been horrible, what had happened in the woods…and what about Suman’s family? Had Suman been able to tell Klaud? If Klaud, knew then maybe…  
  
He sighed. A wistful part of Alma couldn’t help but fantasize briefly about the two of them finding him, and telling him that everything was resolved, and he could go back. Everything would be okay, and everything could go back to the way it was.  
  
It was a stupid, childish thing to dream about. Things could never go back to the way they were.  
  
Alma gripped the bow tightly, and shot again.  
  
Despite his unwillingness to allow such, Alma’s mind eventually migrated to focusing on his stepfather, and the order that he had given Suman. Alma’s body tensed as he thought about it, but _why_? It had been several days since Alma had learned of what Sheril wanted, but he was still struggling to understand why. Could it really have been because Alma was accommodator? That seemed to have been the one major thing that stood out to Alma, but if that were true, then why have Suman be the one to try to kill Alma? Why order an _exorcist_ to do it? Surely Sheril could have gotten someone else somehow…  
  
_‘It doesn’t add up…’_ Alma thought, as he continued to practice, changing targets at one point to focus on a new area. _‘There has to be another reason, but I can’t think of what…’_  
  
Alma sighed, as he lowered his bow. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out for, but he could see that the sky was growing dusky.   Gradually, the sun had begun to dip down into the west, coloring the sky warm pinks and oranges as they blended into violet farther east.  
  
Alma glanced back down, and toward the trees. They were becoming darker, and more shadowed; even with the knowledge of the seal marks being in place, Alma could feel a chill tremor throughout him.  
  
Shaking his head, Alma tried to swallow the nervousness that tickled from within. He needed to stop letting himself become so edgy, especially when he was in a place that was safe. Safer than anywhere else he could have been, at least.  
  
Taking his bow, Alma continued to practice a bit longer. Klaud had said it was good to practice when it was darker out, and she was right; seeing in the woods hadn’t been easy, and it _did_ make a difference. Sooner or later, Alma would probably be in a situation where he’d have to fight again, and he needed to be better prepared than he had been.  
  
A bit longer passed, and Alma was soon growing tired. He paused to rest, but noticed that his body was beginning to feel stiff, and his shoulders sore. _‘I should stop before I wear myself out-‘_ Alma started to think, before someone cut him off.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Alma looked back, and was a bit surprised to see Kanda was there. His expression was somewhat neutral, and not as soured as Alma had seen previously; at the same time, there was a mildly annoyed glimmer in Kanda’s eyes that was hard to miss.  
  
The look was not enough to offset Alma too much; he was beginning to become accustomed to the moodiness of the other exorcist.  
  
“Hey,” Alma returned. There was a tinge of uncertainty to his tone, as he wasn’t sure why Kanda was even addressing him. So far, Kanda had more or less opted to ignore or avoid Alma, save for the odd interaction the night before. Alma shifted, as he remembered this, but asked a more general question. “Did…you need something?”  
  
The annoyance seemed to flare a bit, but Kanda for the most part kept his tone more controlled. “No, I don’t need anything from you,” He responded, words just short of sounding snappish. “I came to make sure you hadn’t wandered off passed the seals or some shit. You’ve been gone a while.”  
  
Alma blinked, before he registered just how long he had been gone. It was almost dark by this point, though Alma couldn’t remember what time he had left the house. He looked away, expression a bit contrite. “Ah, sorry. I wasn’t really thinking about the time…” He said, before chancing to look back at Kanda with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”  
  
Kanda seemed to stiffen a bit as Alma said this, and this time Kanda was the one to break eye contact. “I wasn’t worried,” Kanda countered. “I was just checking since Tiedoll wanted me to make sure nothing happened.”  
  
“Oh,” Alma said, now feeling a bit more awkward than anything else. “Um…well thanks. For checking on me.”  
  
Kanda still kept his gaze averted somewhat stubbornly, and didn’t respond. His eyes moved to the bow Alma was holding. “You always practice this late?”  
  
Again, Alma found himself a bit surprised. The question was almost conversational, minus the rough edge in which Kanda spoke.  
  
Still. It was immensely more amiable in nature when Alma thought back to how Kanda had initially been acting around him.  
  
Alma shrugged. “Not always,” He admitted, before smiling a bit. “Klaud had just been getting me into the habit of trying to train when it was darker out though. She said it was good to practice my night vision.”  
  
When Alma’s eyes moved back to Kanda, he could see Kanda looking at him somewhat blankly, and Alma realized that Kanda probably had no idea who Klaud was. Alma’s eyes shifted off to the side. “Klaud’s the exorcist general for Engelus’s unit.”  
  
Kanda crossed his arms. “You trained under an exorcist?” He asked, though the words came out as more of a dubious statement.  
  
Alma looked back at Kanda, and frowned. “Well…yeah. Klaud was always the one who trained me in archery, even before I synchronized,” Alma answered, as though it were the most obvious fact in the world.  
  
Kanda stared, looking as though he were processing this detail. His expression remained cool as he spoke. “That’s surprising.”  
  
“Why?” Alma asked.  
  
Kanda’s brow furrowed, before he looked away, eyes icy. “Royals don’t view exorcists as anything but dogs.   That’s why.”  
  
The words were spoken at a low volume, yet there was a coldness to the way Kanda spoke that nearly stunned Alma. A bit unsure of how to respond, Alma glanced away. “I don’t think that…”  
  
“Tch. Yeah, well you’re one now so…”  
  
Alma’s head whipped back in Kanda’s direction, as he scowled. “I didn’t think it before either!” Alma argued, not liking the way Kanda was interpreting things. But, Alma quickly tried to pull back when he realized that _he_ was being the one to first lose his temper.  
  
Alma attempted to compose himself, as he spoke again. “Klaud…I’ve known her since I was a kid. Suman too,” He said, as he tried to ignore the pang in his chest as he spoke. “They always did so much, and I never understood why…”  
  
Alma’s voice trailed off, as he found himself unable to say the name that had threatened to slip off his tongue: _Sheril._  
  
Kanda watched, as Alma seemed to collapse with his words, unable to finish whatever he had been about to say. Gaze pensive, Kanda’s eyes lingered on Alma for a moment.  
  
When Kanda realized that he was staring, he moved his attention away from Alma. “It’s late. You’ll overexert yourself if you train any more.”  
  
The words came out oddly soft, but Alma nodded.  
  
Like Kanda had said, it was getting late.  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma had neglected to think about how much using his parasitic innocence would have drained him. After dinner, he was all but ready to crash – which wasn’t really normal for him. Usually, Alma would have had at least a little more energy left, though he imagined not having received much sleep the past few nights would have left an impact. He’d probably just use the lavender again to try to sleep.  
  
Alma glanced at the flowers. They were already beginning to dry, yet still were managing to obtain their fragrance. Alma remembered that he had meant to tell Kanda it had helped earlier, though Alma had for whatever reason faltered on doing so in the moment. He wasn’t sure why.  
  
He sat on the edge of the bed as he pondered this, and his attention moved toward the door. Alma stopped when his eyes passed over the small dresser.  
  
His focus promptly landed on the mirror that Road had given him.  
  
Inside, something twisted uneasily. Alma hadn’t actually paid the mirror any attention lately, but he couldn’t say that he liked holding onto it. It was now nothing more than an uncomfortable reminder of his life before expulsion, and of that terrible day when everything had so radically changed. Plus it was from _Road_ – someone on Sheril’s side of the family, and a side that Alma found himself resistant to ever interact with again.  
  
Alma still didn’t know why Road had given the mirror to him, but he didn’t want it.  
  
Standing, Alma walked over to where the mirror was and picked it up. He looked at it, then his eyes moved to the window.  
  
Alma approached it, and opened the window. He could see the trees outside, melting into the darkness of night.  
  
_‘Just get rid of it. Throw it out the window._ Something _,’_ Alma thought, as he felt a sudden impulsion rush over him. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but there was an instinctual urge to get rid of the mirror. It felt so cold in his grasp – so cold that it nearly burned.  
  
Outside in the hall, Alma could hear someone walk by his room. The door wasn’t shut all the way, so when Alma turned he caught a glimpse of movement.  
  
Quickly, Alma took the mirror and threw it into the drawer of the dresser. It was just a mirror – he didn’t need to be _afraid_ of it. _‘I’ll get rid of it later.’_  
  
Alma went to the door, where he poked his head out into the hallway. At first he wasn’t sure if it were Daisya or Kanda who had passed his room, but when he looked down the hall he could see Kanda.  
  
“Ah, Kanda!” Alma started to say, catching Kanda just before he went into his room.  
  
Kanda stopped, and looked over in Alma’s direction, eyes expectant.  
  
Urging himself not to falter this time, Alma forced the words out. “Um…the lavender helped. Last night,” Alma said, in a slightly rushed, awkward tone. “I just wanted to let you know. Thanks for them.”  
  
Kanda blinked, then looked away. “It should last a while. I don’t want to have to wake up to you creeping around again,” He grumbled in response.  
  
Alma smiled. “You won’t! It’s a really relaxing scent.”  
  
At this point, Kanda happened to glance back at Alma, and caught sight of the sweet, appreciative smile the other young man wore. Kanda felt himself unexpectedly go a bit rigid, and he tore his gaze away from Alma upon accidentally locking eyes with the prince.  
  
As Alma saw Kanda look away, his own gaze moved downward. “Ah…I’ll let you go. You were probably going to go to sleep,” Alma said, unable to ignore the sensation that he was only keeping Kanda. “Thanks again.”  
  
The conversation having dissolved by that point, Kanda didn’t say anything, and Alma went back into his room. Kanda didn’t immediately leave the hall though, and instead lingered in the hall for a moment longer. His attention flickered back to the door of Alma’s room. He shook his head, and made an attempt to move-  
  
Kanda stopped promptly, when he looked off to the side.  
  
Daisya was there, in the doorway leading to his room. He was placed right next to Kanda, so he only needed to step out to be speaking distance away. Currently, Daisya was leaning against the doorframe, and peering at Kanda with intrigue, sharp eyes, and the faintest hint of a smirk could be seen on his lips.  
  
Kanda’s eyes narrowed. “What?”  
  
Daisya shrugged. “Oh, nothing,” He replied nonchalantly. “I just think it’s interesting how much nicer you’ve been to the royal today. You know, compared to like, a few days ago.”  
  
Kanda sneered, and looked away. “Tiedoll will give me shit if anything happens to the stupid royal,” He muttered, not even sure why Daisya was commenting on the matter to begin with.  
  
The excuse didn’t seem to entirely appease Daisya, and his smirk only broadened. “Sure,” He said. “Which is why you bothered to give him lavender flowers. _Cute_.”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed back to Daisya, and he glowered darkly. “He fucking woke me up, and I didn’t want to deal with that shit again. Anyways, I give lavender to Marie too.”  
  
A small snicker escaped Daisya. “Whatever you say. I only call it like I see it,” Daisya said. He then added, in a slightly higher pitch of voice, “But ‘thank you for the lavender, Kanda. It was _really_ helpful.’”  
  
Kanda’s eyebrow twitched at what was clearly meant to be an impersonation of Alma, and he sent a dark look in Daisya’s direction that could only be described as _lethal._ “You have anything better to do other than act like a five-year-old?” Kanda hissed through clenched teeth, patience already evaporating.  
  
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe sleep, but I’ve had trouble lately,” Daisya answered casually, before looking at Kanda teasingly.  “Have any lavender left?”  
  
Fist balling, Kanda abruptly went into his room after that, slamming the door behind him, leaving Daisya in the hallway, laughing.  


* * *

  
  
Silence had come with nighttime. Everyone in the house had finally drifted off into unconsciousness, and even the air was still. No one moved. No one stirred. Everything was quiet.  
  
Alma was asleep. It had come far easier that night than it had any of the others – likely a combination of being exhausted from training earlier, and also having the scent of lavender to ease his mind. A sound, dreamless sleep had taken Alma, giving him a small interval of peace and respite.  
  
_“Alma.”_  
  
A voice seemed to whisper into his ear, but Alma attempted to ignore it. He was far too tired to get up, and the whisper had been so soft that it only seemed to dissolve into the night air, as though it had never even existed.  
  
_“Alma,”_ The voice again spoke, this time a hair louder.  
  
Alma shifted, and turned over, as he pulled the covers farther over him. However, his eyes sleepily opened, and he looked over. The room was empty though, and Alma figured he must not have actually heard anything.  
  
Placing his head back onto the pillow, Alma’s eyes closed, his lids feeling heavy and pulled down.  
  
_“Do you want to go home, Alma?”_  
  
Again, Alma’s eyes opened. This time, he pushed himself into a more upright position as he looked around the room again. He could have _sworn_ that he had heard something – or someone – but when Alma looked, he was alone.  
  
Alma didn’t feel alone though, and he shivered.  
  
_“Alma.”_  
  
There it was – the voice. Alma felt himself grow tense, as he looked around the room. It sounded like it was just _there_ – chillingly close, yet without a viewable source.  
  
Alma felt himself become uneasy. He hadn’t heard any voices since before he had synchronized, but this voice was _different_. It sounded like an actual person, and was oddly familiar.  
  
“Hello?” Alma asked, voice wary.  
  
_“Do you want to go back home? I can take you there.”  
  
_ Alma froze. The voice was startlingly clear, but what rang even louder was the question it posed. It caused Alma’s breath to hitch, as he thought of the castle – the place he had been born, where he had been raised, where the only family he had was.  
  
_‘Home,’_ Alma thought, before shaking his head. No – no, Alma couldn’t go back. He _knew_ this.  
  
“I can’t go back…” Alma began to say, as he thought back to what Suman had told him. Sheril wanted Alma dead for some reason, and Sheril was still there. As far as he knew, Alma _was_ dead.  
  
_“Yes, you can. I can take you there,”_ The voice reassured Alma, sweet like honey yet laced with something strange, and a little unsettling.  
  
Alma hesitated. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t tempted by the offer; in fact, Alma was _very_ tempted. Even if he just had a chance to _see_ …  
  
Getting out of bed, Alma looked around. The voice had sounded like it was coming from inside the room, but Alma had no idea where exactly.  
  
_“I’m in here.”_  
  
Alma’s eyes followed the voice, landing on where it was coming from.  
  
Frowning, Alma went to the dresser, and opened the top drawer. The mirror was in there.  
  
A bit startled, Alma closed the drawer, and took a deep breath. The mirror. The voice was coming from _the mirror.  
  
“Aw, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to go back?” _ The voice could be heard asking, it question taunting and lulling.  
  
_‘Get rid of it,’_ Alma told himself. He wasn’t really sure how to, or what the best way would be – but Alma couldn’t keep that mirror. He needed to dispose of it somehow.  
  
Impulsively, Alma re-opened the drawer to take it. The mirror was cold, and it felt as though Alma were grasping a sharp shard of ice. He winced at the slight sting it caused, and tried to ignore it as he focused on getting rid of it. Maybe if he buried it-  
  
_“Don’t you want to go back?”_ The voice reppeated, causing Alma to halt. _“If you just step outside, you’ll see I can take you there. I know you miss it.”  
  
_ Alma paused, as the words burned into his ears. Was the voice right? Of course it was – Alma did _miss_ being back home, and how things had been. No, it hadn’t had been perfect, but…  
  
Against his better judgment, Alma found himself wavering. Could he see how things were? Was it possible?  
  
_“Just go into the hall, and you’ll be back,”_ The voice egged on. _“I know that’s what you want.”_  
  
A second passed. It…couldn’t have been right. It wasn’t possible a mirror could have somehow taken Alma home. But if all he had to do was go into the hall, then would he really be able to not at least _check_?  
  
A look. Alma could risk a look. He feared he might regret it if he didn’t.  
  
Cautiously, Alma walked to the door. He again found himself hesitating, as he stared at it. Then, with one hand still holding the mirror, Alma pushed the door opened.  
  
He was in one of the corridors of the castle.  
  
Alma blinked, as he took a second to register the sudden change in environment. He at first wondered if he might have been dreaming, or if sleep were trying to tear at his mind once more. But Alma turned, and when he looked back into the room, he saw it was no longer the room in this house, but Alma’s old room – the room he had lived in for years, in the castle, and before having to run away.  
  
Alma was back. He was back at the castle.  
  
Alma stared, wide-eyed and completely in shock. Every detail, every element – it was all the same, and the familiarity of everything was painfully comforting.   Along with that, Alma felt a flood of relief overtake him: he was back home, and he could find Klaud, and Suman, and let them know that he was okay, and his mother would know too. Maybe they could fix everything, and maybe everything would be alright.  
  
Someone. Alma had to find someone.  
  
Without thinking, Alma ran down the corridor, as he sought to find someone familiar.  


* * *

  
  
The sound of the door shutting downstairs caused Kanda to jolt awake. It had been a loud slam, and Kanda felt alarm course throughout his body; who the hell would be slamming doors this time of night?  
  
Scowling, Kanda got up and left his room. As he headed down the hall, he paused by Daisya’s room; Kanda glanced in briefly, and could see Daisya was sprawled out on the bed, completely out. Which meant it wasn’t him that had been downstairs.  
  
Kanda’s brow knotted even more, as he went to check on Alma’s room. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but the door was slightly ajar, so Kanda pushed it open gently.  
  
The room was empty.  
  
“Damn it,” Kanda muttered, as he rushed downstairs. God, had the idiot just been unable to sleep again? That better have been it, though Kanda couldn’t understand why Alma would have needed to go outside _this_ time of night. Even with the seals in place, it wasn’t a good idea.  
  
Heading outside, Kanda looked around. However, he didn’t see any signs of the prince. The air was oddly quiet, and there wasn’t a trace of movement anywhere. Silence stretched on, and felt as though it carried endlessly into the night.  
  
Irritable and tired, Kanda tried calling. “Alma!” He shouted, though his voice dissolved into the night air, and no response was heard.  
  
Kanda frowned, as he felt his blood beginning to chill. Something felt wrong. He didn’t know what it was, but even if Alma had gone out, he should have heard Kanda given how silent it was outside.  
  
“Fucking royal has to be such a pain in the ass…” Kanda mumbled, as he started to look around. If Alma had just left outside, he couldn’t have gone _that_ far, right? Kanda tried shouting for the prince a second time. “Alma!”  
  
But, there was still no response, and only silence remained.  
  
Kanda’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like this, and if Alma was outside the house somewhere…  
  
Kanda paused, when he saw something on the ground. Kneeling down, Kanda could see several lavender buds discarded onto the grass.  
  
Standing, Kanda ran back into the house to go get Daisya.  


* * *

  
  
No one. Alma had found _no one_.  
  
He looked around. Alma had just about run up and down every hallway in the castle, peering into rooms and looking into chambers. He had even tried his mother’s chambers – but no one was there. No guards. No servants. _No one_.  
  
The castle was just…empty. Desolate. Vacant.  
  
Alma turned, looking around anxiously. “Hello!?” He called, not sure where anyone was. How could the castle have been this empty? There was _always_ someone around, even when it was this late at night.  
  
In Alma’s hand, the mirror remained cold. Alma hadn’t heard the voice since appearing in the castle, but he had found himself unable to discard it. Tightly, Alma clung to the mirror as though it were his lifeline to the castle.  
  
_‘Where is everyone?’_ Alma wondered as he continued to hurry down each corridor, checking repeatedly to see if he could find anyone. No one could be spotted though, and as far as Alma could tell, he was alone.  
  
Just…alone.  
  
Alma shuddered, and rubbed his arms. It was strangely cold in the castle, and almost felt as though he were outside. The air even seemed a bit damp, and somewhere Alma could smell wet earth. _‘That’s weird…’_ Alma thought, as he glanced around. _‘It…smells like I’m outside somewhere…’_  
  
Softly, someone giggled.  
  
The hair on the back of Alma’s neck stood, and he turned quickly. Just as before, he saw no one.  
  
Another giggle – this time louder. It was silvery, and bell-like, while again having an eerie ring of familiarity.  
  
“Is someone there?” Alma asked. He tried to fight the tremor of nervousness that threatened to break into his tone, but wasn’t all that successful, and his heart rate was beginning to quicken in unease.  
  
_“Come outside, Alma.”_  
  
The sound of the voice nearly made Alma jump. He hadn’t been sure if he would hear it again, though the sound of it only rattled his nerves even more. “Who…who is that?” Alma questioned, knowing he had heard the voice _somewhere_ before. But he seemed to be drawing a blank, and just couldn’t remember where.  
  
_“Just come outside. You’ll see.”_  
  
There was a brief moment of hesitation, but Alma caved, and started outside where the voice had directed him to go.  


* * *

  
  
“Are you _sure_ he’s not hiding in the house somewhere?” Daisya asked, as several bags hung beneath his eyes. “Because it’d be weird for him to run off this late…”  
  
Kanda’s head whipped in Daisya’s direction irritably. “ _Yes,_ I’m sure. I wouldn’t have woken you up otherwise,” Kanda snapped. “The idiot isn’t in the house, and I couldn’t find him outside. It’s like he disappeared.”  
  
Daisya frowned, and looked around. He had finally started to wake up, becoming more alert after Kanda had all but busted into his bedroom to yank the sheets off of his body. Daisya had immediately been confused, and thought that maybe they were under some sort of attack at first; but then Kanda had explained that Alma seemed to be missing. Which alone was odd.  
  
Now, they were going into the woods, with both their anti-akuma weapons ready to go in case they were needed.  
  
“I still can’t think of why he’d come out here,” Daisya said. “Like if he wants to leave, okay, but why at night? Damn akumas will be _everywhere_.”  
  
Kanda’s jaw clenched and he looked around. Daisya was right; nighttime was easily one of the worst times to venture through the woods. Alma hadn’t exactly had his innocence for all that long from what Kanda understood, and he wasn’t as prepared to deal with akuma extensively. The damned prince was just so _naïve_ too – Kanda didn’t like the idea of him being out in the woods on his own.  
  
“He couldn’t have gone far,” Kanda spoke, as his eyes continued to scan the woods. Unfortunately, it was so dark; the twisted, gnarled trees made it difficult to see easily, and the shadows seemed to blacken the air even more.  
  
“Yeah, but where? Shit, Alma could have gone in any direction,” Daisya pointed out. “At this rate, he could be anywhere-“  
  
Suddenly, Daisya stopped speaking.   Kanda turned to the other exorcist, eyes pensive. “What is it?”  
  
“Hold on,” Daisya said, as his expression became uncharacteristically serious. His dark eyes were peering, as he appeared to observe the area.  
  
After a moment, Daisya spoke. “There’s…some kind of weird energy here. Not like what I’m familiar with,” He expressed. “I can’t tell what it is.”  
  
Kanda frowned. He knew that since Daisya could use some magic that the other exorcist could be more sensitive to picking it up when used in other instances, but usually Daisya could tell what it was. The fact that he couldn’t on this occasion was unsettling.  
  
“Can you tell where it’s coming from?” Kanda asked, voice low.  
  
Daisya nodded. “Yeah…it’s this way,” He said, before glancing in Kanda’s direction. “I don’t have a good feeling about it though.”  
  
Mouth pressed into a tight line, Kanda said nothing. But he felt the same, and he was worried.  


* * *

  
  
Alma walked outside. He had exited through the entrance of the castle that led out into the gardens, though it was dark, and looked much different than in the daytime. A chilly breeze grazed Alma’s flesh, and he tried to ignore it, as he still held the mirror, and was looking for the source of the voice.  
  
“Hello?” Alma called again, wondering if anyone might be outside. The voice had said to come outside after all, so there had to have been _someone_ , right? At least, Alma hoped so. Wandering the castle when it was so empty was…frightening, really. Alma didn’t like it, and it didn’t feel like the home he remembered.  
  
There was no response, and Alma started walking again. As he did this, he experienced the unpleasant recollection of the last time he had walked through the gardens: with Suman, just before Alma had been forced to flee. Alma tried not to focus too much on the memory though, and instead turned his attention to the remaining flowers that had yet to begin withering. At least those looked the same – still pretty, and not yet subjected to the elements. Evasive of time, despite their delicacy.  
  
Alma watched, then out of the corner of his eye saw a shadow move. Tensing, Alma looked up – but he saw nothing when he did. Only the garden fountain that was not too far off.  
  
Moving toward it, Alma stopped just as he arrived at the fountain. The fountain was a pretty one, carved from marble and holding translucent water. As a child, Alma had always liked to play in it, sometimes getting scolded for making such a mess of things.  
  
Alma watched, as his mind drifted off. However, he soon noticed something odd about the fountain. Alma at first couldn’t place what it was, but he soon saw it: several flowers floating in the water, blossomed and pale in the darkness. Lotus flowers.  
  
Confusion filled Alma. The fountain had never had flowers before, and certainly not lotuses. Alma had never even _seen_ a lotus flower before he saw the innocence he would eventually synchronize with, so how was it there were lotus flowers in the fountain now?  
  
Placing the mirror down on the fountain’s edge, Alma bent over, supporting himself with both hands as he tried to get a better look.  
  
As Alma did this, he glanced down. He caught sight of his own reflection, just before seeing the reflection of someone else behind him: a small, petite girl, who looked like…  
  
_‘…Road?’_ Alma thought.  
  
Then, a whisper in his ear. _“Lotuses are always fated to sink back into the mud.”_  
  
Alma didn’t even get a chance to look back, because he was abruptly pushed into the water.  
  
The water splashed, cold, and strangely murky – not like the fountain water should have been. It was also _deep_ ; the fountain had never been deep before, yet Alma’s body flailed as he strained to break the surface of the water.   He gasped as soon as he managed to do so, and his lungs burned for oxygen. But as soon as Alma’s head had broken the surface, a hand brutally shoved his head back into the water, smothering him and repressing him.  
  
Panic filled Alma. He needed air, and he couldn’t breathe – but there was someone above who was trying to _drown_ him. Arms flailing, Alma grabbed at their wrists, and tried to shove them off. He kicked back as he did this, trying to get away from whoever it was so he could make it to the surface.  
  
Finally, the hand released, and Alma tried again to kick up. He splashed as he broke the surface for a second time, coughing and sputtering what water had trickled into his lungs.  
  
Eyes focusing, Alma made it to the edge of the water. As he breathed, he looked around.  
  
When Alma did, he was shocked to see that he was no longer in the garden. Now, he was somewhere dark – so dark he couldn’t see, and the water he was in was a larger body.  
  
Alma could feel his adrenaline pumping, as he glanced around. He couldn’t see who had tried to shove him underwater, but he could see the mirror was still by the edge. Quickly, Alma tried to crawl out of the water, only to have something catch around one of his ankles and attempt to yank him back under.  
  
Anxiety began to flood Alma; he didn’t know what was grabbing him, but he couldn’t see it. “Let go!” He shouted, more out of a hysterical response than anything else. The possibility of activating his innocence came to mind, but Alma realized he couldn’t do that. Doing so would require him to let go of the edge, and as soon as Alma released his grip he would be dragged back into the water.  
  
Whatever was under the water coiled around Alma’s other ankle though, and then his waist; it felt vine-like, and as though it were a cross between a plant and a serpent.  
  
“Get _off!_ ” Alma shouted, as he impulsively grabbed the mirror with one hand. The edge of one part was sharp, and Alma tried to hit at whatever it was beneath the water with the mirror. At this point he was desperate to do _anything_ to break free.  
  
The strange, life-like vines refused to let go despite Alma’s attempts. Alma did the next best thing he could, and took the mirror, shoving it into the earth of the water’s edge to try to anchor himself, so maybe he would have something to pull onto. He accidentally hit the edge of a rock though, and there was the sound of something cracking. Sparks of energy began to fly from the mirror, scalding hot, and causing Alma to let go.  
  
As soon as Alma did so, he was yanked down, shouting just as he was pulled beneath the surface.  
  
_“Alma!”_  
  
Someone shouted Alma’s name, but Alma didn’t get a chance to register who it was as water splashed around him again. The person dived into the water though, and Alma could feel whoever it was grab him. The vines still clung to Alma’s body, but the person started to tear them off, helping Alma to pull free. As his head broke the surface, Alma could hear a second person shouting.  
  
“It’s coming from that damn mirror!”  
  
Daisya. The voice belonged to Daisya. Alma could hear the exorcist shout something else, and the sound of something shattering.  
  
Alma was pulled out of the water, and he could feel someone continue to steady him. Blinking, Alma blearily tried to focus.  
  
Kanda. It was Kanda who had pulled him out.  
  
Alma looked around. He could see Daisya was there, with some kind of metallic-looking ball that his foot was propped onto. Daisya’s attention had been on something else, though, and Alma’s eyes wandered around.  
  
Trees. Earth. Leaves. _Woods._  
  
Alma was in the woods. He had _only_ been in the woods. Everything else had been…  
  
_‘An illusion…’_ Alma realized.  
  
Kanda and Alma were both still on the ground, neither having stood and both attempting to catch their breath.   They were both soaking wet, though while Alma looked more disoriented, Kanda looked frustrated.  
  
Kanda turned, and glared at Alma. “What the hell were you doing out here?” Kanda snapped. “These woods aren’t safe, and you nearly got _killed-_ “  
  
He cut off abruptly, as he seemed to register the way Alma was looking at him: wide blue eyes stared at Kanda, Alma’s gaze was watering and hazy. The prince was shivering too, and looked as though all of the color had been drained from his face.  
  
Alma just looked… _broken_.  
  
Several tears cascaded down Alma’s cheeks, yet he hardly uttered a noise. He only continued to stare at Kanda, absolutely devastated as the reality sank in. “I…I thought I was home…” Alma managed to speak, his words barely audible as they trembled softly.  
  
Kanda visibly faltered at this. He watched somewhat helplessly as Alma all but began to fall to pieces, his own insides coiling unpleasantly at the sight. “Alma...” Kanda started to say, not sure what really to do.   But Alma was there, shaking and cold and _crying_ , and something about the whole thing was far too unbearable for Kanda to handle.  
  
In one swift motion, Kanda wrapped his arms around Alma, pulling him close. As soon as he did this, Alma broke, as a quiet sob fell from his lips. “Hey, it’s…it’s okay now,” Kanda murmured. “We’ll go back to the house. It’s going to be okay…”  
  
Alma only cried though, as Kanda held him.  
  
While Kanda did his best to calm Alma, Daisya remained quiet a few feet away. During all this, his eyes never once left the mirror, which was now on the ground in shattered pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I might be busy tomorrow and Saturday, so I wanted to go on and post this today while I had time. >.<
> 
> This chapter was a whirlwind, and I actually wrote it all in one day because it was that much of a rush with everything going on. We all knew that mirror was going to spell disaster out for everyone, but it really did spiral into something pretty intense. (The part with the vines pulling Alma into the water and the incorporation of flowers was actually based off a nightmare I had - not the exact same thing, but it did add to the inspiration because that was frankly one of the most terrifying nightmares ever)
> 
> Writing this chapter did also remind of of the Witch House bit from Lotus in the Snow. Road really knows how to mess with people's heads, and she really played off Alma's desire to see his home again (which, I think is pretty understandable? When you grow up somewhere, there's just this attachment even if it's not perfect, and this sense of romanticizing what you can't have). Just, a really painful thing to experience, and I'm glad that if anything this may further strike a chord within Kanda to keep an eye out for Alma. ;__; (Mmmm and he did just blindly dive in after Alma to save him SO >.>)
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who's been continuing to leave feedback and support for this story! As always, it means a lot. <3


	18. Shards of Broken Glass

The atmosphere of the meeting wasn’t anything Bookman hadn’t anticipated. Tense, uneasy, strained – it was that could be expected, given the circumstances.    
  
Tricia in particular seemed to carry a large amount of this tension. Her body was rigid, and her expression was so still that she almost appeared to have been carved by marble: stony, cold, yet terribly fragile. Marble was such a soft stone, despite its coldness.  
  
Sheril was with the queen, seated beside her. This was not surprising to Bookman; he hadn’t been foolish enough to actually hope to have met with the queen by herself. Not with the prince having so unsettlingly vanished. The queen naturally would have had someone with her, both as a layer of protection and for an additional pair of eyes – even if the eyes were untrustworthy.  
  
Like a vulture, Sheril loomed near the queen – unyielding devoted, and unnervingly attentive.   No movement of the queen or a word softly spoken went without being monitored. There was a mask of consideration and concern carefully constructed, and had Bookman not had so many years of training his keen sight, he might have fallen for the charade.  
  
But, Bookman didn’t. He wasn’t easily tricked.  
  
Bookman’s attention returned to Tricia, as he stood before her. The queen looked tired, and as though she had aged since Bookman had last seen here despite it being hardly a full two weeks ago.  
  
“I’m sorry for what has happened. I understand this must be incredibly difficult for you,” Bookman offered – a courtesy apology, but one that he felt was necessary to vocalize.  
  
Tricia nodded, in replacement of a verbalized “thank you.” Her throat was dry, and no words were able to come forward.  
  
Sheril’s eyes lingered on Bookman, expression neutral. “You were able to return quickly,” He observed, tone conversational. However, it held some kind of sharpness in the undercurrent of the statement. A blade concealed beneath the surface of a trickling stream.  
  
Bookman kept his face unreadable. “Such news travels fast,” He stated simply. “Since I had intended to return to check on Prince Alma’s progress, I felt it was important I return. Especially if his disappearance may be tied to the innocence he received.”  
  
Tricia looked at Bookman, her eyes oddly becoming more alert despite the haziness. “Do you have any ideas as to where he could be?” She asked, the words breaking out in more of a rush.  
  
Bookman shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But if I may have your permission, I’d like to do what I can to see if my apprentice and I might be able to determine any causes.”  
  
As the words were spoken, something in Sheril’s gaze flashed, and he looked as though he were planning to say something. Tricia reacted first though, as she nodded her head. “Yes, please – by all means, do whatever you must,” She encouraged, giving her approval swiftly. “I…I need to know where my son is.”  
  
Bookman titled his head in acknowledgment. “We will do what we can to be of assistance,” Bookman assured. “The Bookmen are trained to be astute in our observations. We might be able to determine something yet.”  
  
As Bookman said this last part, his eyes fellt on Sheril: sharp, and pointed.  
  
Sheril’s gaze narrowed.  
  
Bookman returned his focus to Tricia. “My apprentice and I can begin looking into things at once.”  
  
“That would most appreciated,” Tricia said. “You may go – again, please do as you need to.”  
  
Bookman nodded. His attention briefly moved over to Sheril one last time, but Bookman then left, and departed from the room.  
  
Once Bookman was gone, Sheril’s eyes shifted over to Tricia. “You should be careful of how much leeway you give the Bookmen, Tricia,” He warned, tone gentle yet cool. He placed a hand over Tricia’s. “I don’t wish to see them take advantage of you.”  
  
Tricia shook her head. “The Bookmen have worked closely with the Council for years. If they can find-“  
  
Abruptly, Tricia’s words cut off as her voice threatened to crack.   She shakily took a breath as she struggled to keep her composure; even if she and Sheril were alone, Tricia didn’t want to break. She had broken, again and again, so many times in the past few days.   She didn’t know how many more times she could handle it.  
  
At this point, Tricia felt as though she might shatter completely.  
  
Silently, Sheril ran his hand over Tricia’s – a soothing sensation, and one often used to help ease her. Sheril watched, and his eyes were distant as he observed how Tricia fought to hold back tears.  
  
When the queen finally appeared to have stopped herself from going over the edge, Sheril exhaled. He eyed the queen warily. “Tricia,” He began to say, voice still gentle yet with a more severe edge. “There is something I need to tell you.”  
  
Tricia turned, as she looked over at Sheril. Her glassy blue eyes were filled with apprehension, as she noted the tone in which Sheril spoke. “What?” She asked. “Sheril, what is it?”  
  
Sheril paused, as he looked as though he were considering what to say next – or at the very least, how to say it. His dark eyes meeting Tricia’s, he spoke lowly.   “I just received word of a witness,” He stated evenly. “Someone who might have seen who Alma was last with-“  
  
“Who are they?” Tricia asked, interrupting anxiously. “Sheril, I _need_ to speak with them-“  
  
Seeing how frantic the queen was becoming already, Sheril tightened his grasp on Tricia’s hand. “Tricia,” He firmly spoke. “Tricia, you will be able to speak with them – but we must proceed with caution.”  
  
Tricia took in a few breaths, but she still looked as though she were on the verge of frantic worry, impatient and apprehensive. “Sheril,” She began, tone urgent and pleading, “Sheril, _who_?”  
  
Sheril stroked Tricia’s hand. “I’ll arrange for you to see them at once. They were very concerned for their safety, but they did agree to state what they saw to you,” He explained calmly. “You will see them.”  
  
The words were grounded, yet at the same time nonplussed. Tricia would have liked to have thought that this was a good sign – but in the pit of her stomach there were knots, and she feared she might faint at any given moment.  


* * *

  
  
_Tap. Tap. Tap._  
  
Lavi continued to tap the heel of his boot against the wall, as the sound rhythmically repeated against the silence of the corridor. He leaned his head back, as he felt the wall behind him – cool, and somewhat smooth. For leaning against such a hard surface, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable, actually.  
  
Lavi might have even been able to relax, had his mind not been so preoccupied with other things.  
  
His one visible eye opening, Lavi glanced around. He was waiting outside one of the meeting rooms much to his annoyance. Bookman had finally managed to meet with the queen, but Bookman had needed to go alone – something that Lavi wasn’t thrilled with. Lavi never enjoyed being left out of the loop, and there was never a guarantee of what Bookman would fill him in on afterward. Besides, Lavi was a part of the Bookman Clan – it was his _job_ to observe these things, and not being able to do so could get frustrating.  
  
Blowing a puff of air, Lavi eyed the door. He had initially attempted to strain his ears, but could only hear silence from where he was. There was the possibility of course of trying to press his ear to the door, but that likely wouldn’t have gone over well; there were two guards stationed outside of the doors, and they didn’t look particularly friendly.  
  
Lavi was of course tempted to test this. He was tempted to, but resisted.  
  
Glancing over at one of the guards, Lavi managed a grin. “Soooo,” He started, breaking the thick silence of the corridor, “Pretty interesting job, huh? I’m sure you get to see a lot of interesting things go in and out of those doors.”  
  
The guard merely gave Lavi an unimpressed look, before returning his focus to a more forward stare.  
  
Lavi’s expression faded, a bit awkwardly. He sighed. “Humor really is a dying art…” Lavi said, more to himself than to the guard.  
  
The silence resumed, and again Lavi kicked back against the wall. He stretched his arms, and folded them behind his head as he started to whistle lowly. He didn’t whistle in any particular melody; it was more a medley of random notes, not all that appealing to the ear.  
  
Stiffly, the guard looked over at Lavi in annoyance.  
  
Before anything further could be done or said, the doors opened. Lavi stopped immediately, as he straightened his posture. He watched as Bookman exited the chambers, body composed and expression unreadable.  
  
Without so much as batting an eye, Bookman spoke to Lavi sharply. “Stop lounging about so lazily. We have work to do.”  
  
Lavi pushed himself off the wall, as he followed Bookman. Once they were out of earshot from the guards, Lavi spoke. “So…find anything out?” He asked.  
  
Bookman’s lips pressed together into a frown. “Not explicitly,” Bookman confirmed. “The queen has given us permission to look into what we need to in order to be of assistance. I hope you’re prepared. We won’t be getting any sleep for a while.”  
  
Lavi’s visible eye lingered on Bookman, then he shifted his focus forward. “Wasn’t planning on it,” He murmured, as his tone grew more serious. “Something isn’t right here…”  
  
“No, but for now we’ll have to do what we can,” Bookman said. “We need to move quickly though. I have a strong suspicion that this is foul play, and if it’s foul play, it’s only a matter of time before things get worse.”  
  
As Bookman said these words, Lavi frowned.  
  
Somehow, he had a feeling that Bookman was right.

* * *

  
  
It was silent where Alma’s room, but that was fine. For once, he wanted to be somewhere silent.  
  
There was light coming in from the window: an indicator that it was daytime, and that night had ended. Again – it was fine. Alma didn’t like the dark, and during the daytime he was safe.  
  
At least, Alma had the illusion of safety.  
  
Only an illusion.  
  
_In the garden. By the fountain. Someone behind him.  
  
Falling into water.  
  
Drowning-  
  
_ Alma shuddered. He was dry now, but could still recall the murkiness of the water, and the way the sludge-infested liquid had clogged and scorched his lungs. Choking, suffocating – Alma hadn’t been able to breathe, and had almost drowned completely. He had almost died.  
  
Again. He had almost died _again._  
  
Instinctively, Alma wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them close up to his chest as he curled up.   He was sitting on the floor, back against the bed. The bed would have been more comfortable, but had Alma gotten too comfortable, he might have fallen asleep – and if he fell asleep, he might have become vulnerable again.  
  
Alma was tired of being vulnerable. He was tired of almost dying.  
  
Suman. The woods. The akuma. The _illusion_ – it had only been days, and already Alma had felt himself brush against death so many times. It was a cold, terrifying sensation. And it was something scared him.  
  
Alma didn’t want to die. He wanted to _live_.  
  
A part of him felt foolish; Alma had so naively thought that maybe he would have been safe in that house, behind the seal marks and with the other exorcists. But somehow, things kept finding him. Things kept seeking him out. At first, Alma might have attributed it to bad luck and poor judgment such as getting involved with the akuma, but the _mirror_ -  
  
Another shudder. The mirror. What had it been? Alma had been _carrying_ it with him too – had it just been some kind of trap all along? Had that been why Road had given it to Alma? Alma thought his head might explode from the thought; Road was a young girl, but he thought that he had seen her in that illusion, with her reflection in the water and strange, _glowing_ eyes…  
  
It was like Alma would never escape. He would never be able to get away from it all.  
  
_‘Why?’_ Alma wanted to ask, but the words remained locked away in his chest. _‘Why won’t they leave me alone?’_  
  
Sheril. Road. The akuma. These things kept following Alma, and they wouldn’t leave him be.  
  
Alma didn’t understand why.

* * *

  
  
The sound of an occasional _click_ filled Kanda’s ears: the gentle clinking of glass, light yet piercing. It crushed against the silence of the room, almost aggravatingly so. Not that many things _wouldn’t_ have aggravated Kanda then – he had hardly slept all night after the scare in the woods with Alma. And with Kanda’s low energy came low patience.  
  
Arms crossed, Kanda leaned against the wall. He glared over at the few bits of shattered mirror that had been retrieved. “Do you have any idea what it was?” Kanda asked, words impatient.  
  
Daisya paused. He was currently on the floor in the living area, legs crossed as he had a few mirror shards on the ground. All morning, Daisya had been messing with them, moving them about and trying to figure out what magic had been infused into the material.  
  
Daisya looked over at Kanda. “Not sure. When it got shattered, a lot of the energy was reduced. So it’s hard to tell,” He responded, before looking back at the shards. He picked up a mirror fragment, and peered at it closely. “It was potent, whatever it was. Not like what I’m familiar with…”  
  
Kanda sneered in annoyance. “Great. We can’t even know what the hell it was then…”  
  
Placing the mirror shard down, Daisya looked over at Kanda questioningly. “What else did Alma say?” He asked. “I mean, if he even said anything after we got back…”  
  
Hesitation filled Kanda, and he avoided Daisya’s gaze. After Alma had broken down in the woods, he had essentially been a mess afterward. Even when he had finally stopped sobbing, the prince had fallen into some unnerving state of silence – possibly from shock. Kanda didn’t know. Alma had been so _quiet_ going back to the house, not uttering a single noise. It actually had been rather disturbing, and one of the reasons Kanda hadn’t bothered to push Alma away when he so pathetically clung to Kanda’s shirt sleeve – almost as though the prince were desperate for some sense of reality, and some anchor into the present moment.  
  
Truthfully, it had unsettled Kanda.  
  
Kanda was still averting his gaze when he answered Daisya. “He didn’t say anything. Just that crap about thinking he was home when we found him….” Kanda spoke, voice low.  
  
Daisya frowned. “We need to know what he saw…or at least where he got the damn thing from…” He started to say, though Daisya stopped when he saw Kanda glare over at him.  
  
“What?” Daisya asked, as frustration spilled out. “Look, even if there’s no way to figure out what it was exactly, figuring out _where_ he got it from is kind of a huge detail!”  
  
Kanda exhaled heavily, as he uncrossed his arms. He knew Daisya had a point, and that sooner or later they would _have_ to try to find out from Alma what had happened and where he had gotten the mirror from. If they didn’t, they could all still be at risk.  
  
That was the last thing they needed.  
  
Seeing that Kanda was backing down, Daisya shifted his position, propping up a knee so he could rest his arm over it. “Look, do you want to check on him, or should I do it?” Daisya asked. “I mean, he hasn’t come out of his room _at all_ – he has to eventually.”  
  
Expression stony, Kanda’s eyes flickered over to the staircase. “I’ll check on him,” He grumbled. “Just see if you can figure anything else out…”  
  
Daisya shrugged. “Will do, but I’m not making any promises.”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda muttered, before he started up the stairs. As he did so, he could hear Daisya return to focusing on the mirror shards, with the occasional clink of glass reaching Kanda’s ears.  
  
Once upstairs, Kanda approached Alma’s room. The door was closed, as it had been ever since Alma had holed himself up in there. As soon as they had returned to the house during the night, Alma had hidden away quickly, not speaking a word to Kanda or Daisya regarding what had happened. He had just shut the door, and not left his room the rest of the night.  
  
At one point, Kanda had thought that he could hear crying from the other side of the door. But it had been so soft and faint, that he wasn’t certain if he had imagined it or not.  
  
Kanda frowned at the closed door, and hesitated. It was silent now, and he couldn’t hear anything – not a creak of a floorboard, or a trace of movement. For a fleeting second, Kanda debated on having Daisya check on Alma instead. Kanda wasn’t good at this sort of thing, and frankly he wasn’t even sure why he had told Daisya he’d do it.  
  
Kanda shook his head. This was ridiculous – all he had to do was knock, and see if the royal was even alive in the stupid room. Daisya was right: Alma would have to come out eventually, and couldn’t hide away in his room forever.  
  
Before he could change his mind, Kanda knocked.  
  
There was no response.  
  
Kanda exhaled. Shit, he hoped the royal was asleep or something – Kanda didn’t know if he had the patience to be ignored, especially when he was having to deal with this all. He tried to knock again.  
  
Again, there was no response.  
  
Kanda scowled. What was he supposed to even do in this situation? Just go in? That seemed awkward, but then again Kanda wasn’t inclined to just walk away either. It was a frustrating dilemma, and Kanda bitterly found himself wishing that Alma would make it easier by opening the damn door already.  
  
In a third attempt, Kanda knocked – but there was no response, and Kanda felt his patience evaporate.  
  
Without warning, Kanda opened the door. As soon as he did so, he immediately spotted Alma – slightly startled and very much awake. He was seated on the floor and against the side of the bed, legs pulled up to his chest as his arms wrapped around them tightly. As Kanda looked, he could also see that while Alma’s face was dry, his eyes were rimmed with red and slightly puffy.  
  
_Fuck_ , Kanda should have made Daisya do this.  
  
Eyes hard, Kanda spoke, his irritation spilling out before he could think to stop himself. “Were you seriously going to ignore me?” He asked, words coming out more harshly than even _he_ had intended.  
  
Alma blinked, then looked away. He gave no other response.  
  
Kanda’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” He asked. It was a struggle not to let his frustration show; Kanda didn’t like how unresponsive Alma was being, and as much as he was unwilling to admit it, Kanda couldn’t deny that he preferred it immensely when Alma was being obnoxiously chatty. Now Alma just seemed…  
  
The word escaped Kanda, before he could even think it. Alma just appeared so _fragile_ , and as the prince’s eyes moved back to him, Kanda felt a sharp stab of guilt for having have sounded so abrasive: Alma looked _shaken_ , and there was an apologetic look in his eyes. They were also hazed over with a mistiness, and with dread Kanda wondered if Alma was going to break down crying or something.  
  
Kanda wasn’t ready for that – he didn’t even know how he had managed to handle Alma when they found him in the woods.  
  
Uncomfortably, Kanda looked away. He needed to try to be more careful with his words – something that he wasn’t accustomed to doing _at all_. Normally, Kanda wouldn’t have cared to do so either. But, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that wouldn’t stop reminding him that for some reason this time was different.  
  
Kanda sighed. He felt tired, and this whole situation was beyond draining – but he needed something more from Alma than a few annoyingly tearful looks and wordless reactions. “Listen,” Kanda started to say, as he _tried_ to do his best to speak in an even tone. “Daisya and I need to know about what happened. To try to figure out what that mirror was exactly.”  
  
Alma stiffened at this, and apprehension flashed in his eyes.  
  
Kanda tried not to let it affect his resolve, but if anything, doing such only seemed to fuel his impatience. “We _need_ to know so we can try to avoid having some shit like that happen again,” Kanda reiterated, not sure how else he could get the importance of this across to Alma. “You don’t have to talk to both of us, and can just talk to Daisya if you want to do that. I don’t care what you do – but, fuck, do _something_.”  
  
The emphasis that Kanda had attempted fell from his lips roughly, and Alma flinched. He looked away, and _shit_ , Kanda felt badly again. He didn’t know how to deal with sensitive people; this was what Tiedoll and Marie were good at. Not Kanda.  
  
Kanda wavered, quickly running out of ideas on what to do – especially before he lost his composure and snapped on Alma or something. That was probably one of the worse ways this situation could go down, and Kanda didn’t know if he trusted himself to be able to keep that from happening. The more Kanda thought about it, the more getting Daisya seemed like the better option.  
  
Kanda shifted, about to just do that, but then Alma spoke. The words were barely audible, and whisper-quiet, but Kanda heard them all the same.  
  
“I don’t know what happened…”  
  
Kanda stopped, and stared over at Alma. Alma wasn’t looking at him, and his eyes were focused off to the side, lingering on a crack in the floorboards. “I don’t know…I just…”  
  
Alma trailed off.   His voice was distant, and his eyes held a far-off look in them: pained, and reminiscent. He looked as though he were struggling to put whatever thoughts he had into words.  
  
“I swear I was back-“ Alma started to say, before his voice seemed to just _crack_. A shaky breath escaped him, and he sounded as though he were trying to calm himself.  
  
Internally, Kanda cursed. Shit, shit, _shit_ – what was he supposed to do in this situation? Leave Alma alone, and come back later? That sounded like a terrible plan, and something in Kanda squirmed horribly at the thought of leaving Alma alone in that instant. In fact, it felt like the _last_ thing that Kanda wanted to do.  
  
On a somewhat instinctual whim, Kanda moved, and went over to where Alma was. He tried to be wary of how on edge Alma was, and kept a comfortable distance between the two of them as he crouched down beside Alma.  
  
“Hey,” Kanda started to say, when it looked like Alma _might_ be able to hold himself together. “Hey, just…”  
  
Now, it was Kanda who trailed off. What was he even going to say? It’s like there were words yearning to come out, but Kanda couldn’t even tell what they were. The only thing that Kanda could tell was that he didn’t like seeing the royal this way – he didn’t like seeing _Alma_ this way.  
  
Kanda took a silent breath. “Last night…you said you thought you were back home,” Kanda began, though he could only assume that “home” meant back in the capital of Engelus. “You thought you were there?”  
  
As Kanda asked this, he attempted to tread more cautiously. Maybe if he could ask more specific questions, he could get a more concrete response from Alma.  
  
Alma paused, before nodding hesitantly. He was still avoiding looking at Kanda in the eye directly. “I…swear I was there. Everything looked the _same_ ,” Alma tried to explain, sounding as though he were trying to rationalize the experience. “I…the halls, my room, it was all there, but there were no people, and I couldn’t find anyone.”  
  
The words tumbled out, as a frantic edge threatened to clutch at Alma’s voice. “I don’t know how I ended up in the woods – everything was so _real_!“  
  
Again, Alma cut off – but, Kanda had managed to already gain more insight to tell Daisya. Whatever the mirror had done, it had caused some kind of hallucination from the sounds of it, and Alma had only _thought_ he was back home.  
  
“It wasn’t real,” Kanda spoke, voice low. “Whatever you saw – it was all fake.”  
  
Alma didn’t argue, and Kanda swallowed. He needed to ask. “Who gave you the mirror?”  
  
Alma visibly tensed. Even before a moment passed, Kanda could already feel Alma’s resistance to answer.  
  
A frown appeared on Kanda’s face. “ _Alma_ ,” He pressed.  
  
The tone made Alma wince, but he finally forced an answer out – quite and nearly inaudible. “It was Road…” He said softly. Then, upon realizing that Kanda might not realize who that was, Alma added, “She’s related to Sheril….”  
  
Road. The name was one that Kanda knew, and that Kanda knew well. Even without the added point of Road being related to Sheril, Kanda already knew she was another Kamelot.  
  
_“Did you do it?” Road asked, voice light and teasing. “I heard you did, and I’m not surprised. You always were like a bomb just waiting to go off…”  
  
Kanda gritted his teeth, as his blood boiled. Hot. Seething. He didn’t care if Road was a _ child _– she was as vindictive as one could be, malicious and tormenting.  
  
Had Kanda not been confined behind bars, then he would have eagerly sliced her tongue out right there.  
  
“What’s the matter? Upset that you were finally outted for what you really are?” Road asked. “You exorcists are all the same really…you think you’re saviors, but you’re nothing but destroyers.”  
  
_ ‘Shut up,’ _Kanda wanted to scream,_ ‘Shut up-‘  
  
“Yuu?”  
  
The voice, so small and tentative, was somehow enough to bring Kanda back to the present moment. Kanda turned, a bit taken aback by hearing his first name.  
  
The confusion on Kanda’s face must have been concerning, because Alma instantly looked as though he regretted calling Kanda by such. His eyes, glassy and not as bright as normal, looked apologetic. “I’m…I’m sorry. I know you don’t like being called by that, but…” Alma’s voice wavered, as he looked down. “You weren’t responding when I called you Kanda, and I thought…”  
  
Alma didn’t finish speaking, as his words seemed to die on him.  
  
Kanda’s eyes were pensive, yet softened somewhat. In all honesty, being called by his first name hadn’t been as grating as normal, and given the circumstances Kanda just didn’t have the energy to lash out over such a detail – not to Alma, at least.  
  
“It’s fine,” Kanda replied, a bit gruffly. “I really don’t care if you call me by it…just stop being so upset…”  
  
The request was out before Kanda could even think to consider the message it carried, but the words had been released all the same.  
  
Alma looked up at Kanda, as genuine surprise lingered in his eyes; however, the prince remained quiet, and could only stare at Kanda.  
  
Kanda noticed this, and quickly looked away, as he stood. “I’ll let Daisya know what you told me,” He spoke, as he quickly made an effort to change the subject. Kanda swiftly started to leave the room after that, but paused when he got to the door. Without looking at Alma, he spoke again, somewhat awkwardly. “Make sure you come down soon, and drink some water. Or eat food. Or…something.”  
  
Kanda left the room after that.  
  
Alma’s eyes remained on the doorway, where Kanda had just been. He had intended to at least manage a thank you, but as many times that morning, his own words evaded him yet again. Instead, Alma could only seem to hear Kanda’s words, strangely soft, and for once carrying something gentle that Alma could not name.  
_  
“Just stop being so upset…”  
_  
For the first time that morning, Alma felt comforted. And when he thought of Kanda, the comfort remained.  


* * *

  
  
Tricia stared. Her skin was pale, as the color had drained from her face: a ghostly shade was left, and her eyes looked on blankly as she processed the information that had just been divulged to her.  
  
Across from her, was Road. The young girl watched Tricia carefully, before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner,” Road apologized, her voice exceptionally dainty and fragile – pitifully so, even. “But I was so certain that he would have told you himself. I didn’t realize that he hadn’t-“  
  
Road stopped, looking as though she were attempting to collect herself. She placed a small, slim hand over her mouth as she took a small breath. Road lowered it, and continued speaking, as her eyes briefly moved over to Sheril. “I was worried something was wrong, when no one was talking about it. But I never would have imagined that someone who’s so loyal would keep such an _important_ detail from you…”  
  
Tricia took a shaky breath, and if anything was grateful that she had been seated. When Sheril had first brought in Road, Tricia was honestly surprised; she hadn’t thought that the girl would know anything, but the queen had been more than willing to hear her out. She had been more than willing to listen to anyone who might have known where Alma was.  
  
Tricia just had not expected to hear the words Road would utter, and who it was that Alma had last been seen with. Who Alma had last been seen _leaving_ with.  
  
Sheril remained quiet, as he was beside Tricia once again. He did not speak, but his eyes lingered on Tricia, as though he were waiting for her to say something.  
  
After a second of attempting to keep her composure, Tricia responded to Road’s statement. “And…you said you saw them leave the castle grounds?”  
  
Road nodded. “Yes. I had spoken to Alma not long before in that area, because I had wanted to give him something,” Road confessed, voice honeyed and delicate. “After, I had stayed out in the gardens, and while I was there, I saw them leave….they looked like they were going into the woods…”  
  
Throat dry, Tricia let the words sink in. “I…I see…” She said, voice quiet.  
  
Sheril glanced over at Tricia again. His eyes were dark, and cool as they observed her carefully. “Tricia…” He began to speak, his voice a gentle murmur. “How do you wish to proceed with this?”  
  
Tricia shifted, and turned to Sheril. “Bring Suman back in for questioning.”

* * *

  
  
Endless. The search was just _endless_.  
  
Suman didn’t know how much more he could take of it all. The silence was horridly suffocation; every breath was strained, and every word was confined. He had by now lost count of all of the times that he had nearly broken, caving and attempting to confide in someone like Klaud over what had happened. He needed to – but couldn’t. Every time he turned, that cursed woman was there, and those damned eyes were just _watching_ him.  
  
He needed a way. He needed a way to tell someone what had happened.  
  
A message. A code. Suman needed to figure out something, and he needed to act quickly – but as to how to do such without drawing unwanted attention to himself would be the challenge.  
  
Suman watched from a distance. Another search party had returned, and Klaud was currently speaking with them. Even though he was not within earshot, Suman could tell by the general’s expression that nothing had been found, and Suman could feel his stomach drop.    
  
A part of him wished someone would find Alma – but Suman knew he had no right to wish such a thing. It was his fault that the prince was now missing to begin with.  
  
After Klaud finished speaking to the party, she walked over to where Suman was. There was a frustrated look in her eyes that was just on the edge of defeat – yet inside those irises burned a flame that refused to be smothered.  
  
“Anything?” Suman asked dryly, though it was more out of a polite charade – Suman knew the answer well enough already.  
  
Klaud sighed, exasperated and tired. “No,” She answered coolly.  
  
Suman watched Klaud, and his eyes flickered around the room they were in. He saw no glimpse of the woman, or those gleaming dark eyes, but he _felt_ her stare – unsettling, and continuously adding to his paranoia. He didn’t know how, but Suman knew he was still be watched. Observed. Tracked.  
  
His attention flickered back to Klaud, and his heart hammered in his chest nervously. Suman couldn’t do this – he couldn’t keep this secret.  
  
But, Suman remembered his family, and the words caught in his throat.  
  
_‘Careful. Damn it, you have to be_ careful _,’_ Suman reminded himself.  
  
Suman swallowed. “And no one has seen anything?”  
  
Klaud shook her head. “A far as I know, no one who’s been questioned has known anything – no signs of if Alma was taken, or if something else may have happened…”  
  
A thin frown formed on Suman’s lips, as he felt his pulse thud in his ears. “What if…he wasn’t taken?” Suman posed, words low.  
  
Klaud swiftly looked at Suman, eyes questioning. “What do you mean?”  
  
Quickly, Suman broke eye contact. “I’m just wondering if it’s possible he….might not want to be found. I don’t know,” He said, before sighing heavily, more so to mask the tremor in his voice.  
  
Klaud frowned pensively, as she tried to make sense of what it was that Suman was suggesting.    
  
Just as Klaud was about to press Suman further, several guards approached them. At first, Klaud assumed they were coming to discuss something regarding the missing prince, but their expressions were severe and stony. Immediately, something seemed off, and Klaud felt her guard raise.  
  
“What is it?” Klaud asked.  
  
One of the guards nodded in Suman’s direction. “We need him for further questioning regarding the prince’s whereabouts.”  
  
Klaud was surprised, then looked at Suman in confusion. She saw that he looked equally bewildered, if not oddly anxious.  
  
Turning back to the guards, Klaud kept her voice firm as she spoke. “Suman was questioned already.”  
  
“We know, but we’ve been ordered to bring him in again,” The guard clarified, before motioning Suman to follow him.  
  
Suman visibly hesitated, but didn’t protest. Only doing so would have caused a scene and more suspicion; but already, Suman’s throat felt dry, and his pulse sped.  
  
Briefly, Suman spared a glance in Klaud’s direction. Then without speaking, he followed the guards.  
  
As Suman did this, he could feel that something was terribly wrong.  
  
It was there, somewhere deep inside: that cold, unpleasant tug of intuition that something wasn’t right, and that something unpleasant was on the way. Suman had never really considered himself to pay much attention to such things. He was always more direct, and tangible when it came to factoring in details; however, in this instance, he was ready to negate his previous stance on such things, because right now the inclination to prepare himself for the worst was too strong to ignore.  
  
In many ways, being summoned into questioning felt like a sentence that had already been passed.  
  
_‘Stop it,’_ A more rational part of Suman’s brain threatened to snap. _‘You’re overreacting. They’re just being thorough.’_  
  
Suman would have given anything to believe such thoughts.  
  
Sooner than preferable, Suman was brought to the same room he had been in just the day prior when being interrogated. As he was directed inside, Suman realized he had been holding his breath up until that point, and he forced himself to release it.  
  
He needed to keep it together. Suman _had to_ – and he would be able to. All he had to do was repeat the exact same story he had given the day before: that he had gone to see his daughter, and by the time he had returned he had not seen Alma.  
  
That was all Suman had to do. Lie.  
  
Suman was brought into the chamber where the interrogations had taken place: a modestly-sized room, with guards stationed just out the door to monitor and intervene should any conflict break out. It was a standard procedure, yet Suman felt uneasy.  
  
This worsened when he saw who was all in the room.  
  
The queen was there, as was Sheril – both of which Suman had expected. He was loathe to see Sheril of course, but swallowed the bitterness that seemed to collect in the back of his throat, and instead focused on the third individual present: Road.  
  
Immediately, Suman could feel the questions begin to pool in his mind. Road had not left back to Arcaia, and Suman had experienced almost no interaction with the girl. He had no desire to, either; there was something deeply unnerving about the way she flitted about the castle, with her dark, doll-like eyes and her innocently _acidic_ smile.  
  
Suman had no idea why Road was present, but it worried him.  
  
When the doors had closed, the queen was the one to speak first. As always, her voice was soft, though she held a slight edge of firmness – the kid she often used when conducting more formal business matters. “You’re probably wondering why you’ve been called in again,” Tricia recognized. Her words were heavy as she continued, “But we would like to discuss the statement you gave yesterday.”  
  
Suman’s eyes almost flickered to Sheril and Road, but he resisted as he attempted to focus on the queen.  
  
Seeing she had Suman’s attention, Tricia continued. “Yesterday you stated that you did not see my son the day he was last seen on the castle grounds, correct? You went to visit your family the morning of.”  
  
Suman nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”  
  
Something seemed to shift in Tricia’s eyes, and she looked over at Sheril uneasily.  
  
Sheril turned his focus to Suman. Like a reptile eying a rodent, his dark eyes gleamed: they were so dark that the pupils were indistinguishable from the irises,

as they dissolved into the inky blackness. “It seems we have an account that contradicts your story,” He pointed out smoothly. “Road?”  
  
Road’s eyes flashed as she daintily pressed a finger to her lips. She paused, as if to teasingly draw out the silence before speaking. “Yes,” She said. “I recall seeing Suman and Alma in the gardens. Just after I had spoken with Alma.”  
  
The room fell silent, and Suman’s breath left him. _‘Shit.’_  
  
Sheril continued. “And what did you see following that?” He asked, question directed at Road.  
  
Road paused, as though to appear thoughtful. “I saw them leave the grounds together, and into the woods,” Road expressed, tone wickedly innocent. “I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, given that the prince had become an accommodator as well…surely a fellow exorcist would have kept a good eye on him, if not reported anything amiss.”  
  
The tension in the room felt as though it had increased tenfold in the millisecond after Road had spoken, and the queen looked at Suman. Tricia’s eyes were expectant of some kind of explanation, but held a hint of something else – something pained that made Suman writhe in guilt.  
  
Damn it. Damn it, this wasn’t _good-_  
  
Suman could feel a wave of iciness wash over him. This was bad. This _looked_ bad. Internally, he cursed; twice now he had given a cover story, and now Road – Road, who was from a _noble_ family – was saying something to contradict his words. Suman racked his brain, as he tried to recall if he had even seen the girl that day. But, it was hard to tell; he had been so focused on thinking he was being watched by that _woman_ that Suman hadn’t considered if he were being observed by someone else.  
  
As Suman clearly faltered on how to react, Tricia spoke. “Suman, what do you have to say to this?”  
  
Suman’s thoughts raced. He didn’t know what to say. Sheril was there, and if Suman were to come clean in that instant it would be a royal’s word against and exorcist’s – and the word of an exorcist had little merit in comparison.  
  
It didn’t help that Suman would already be confessing as well. By this point, he was an active accomplice.  
  
Sheril observed Suman’s reactions shrewdly, as he took in every little flinch of the body and twitch of the eye. His expression remained a mask of refined composure, despite his eyes, which shone threateningly. “I’d advise that you think of your response very carefully, Suman, and how this will impact you and your family,” Sheril reminded, words razor-sharp and ready to slice Suman in two.  
  
Racing. The thoughts kept racing. Suman was already a traitor, whether he admitted to what had happened or not. But, if he told the truth now, would Alma be safe? Sheril would surely lie, and deny that he would have ordered Suman to commit treason, and then he would know that Alma was _alive-_  
  
And Suman’s family. God, what would happen to them?  
  
Suman couldn’t say Alma was alive, and Suman’s word wouldn’t be good enough to go against that of a Kamelot.  
  
Eyes meeting Sheril’s, Suman dared to lock their gazes. When he saw strange, yet sublte gleam of triumph in the noble’s eyes…  
  
Realization dawned on Suman. Letting Suman go. Telling Suman he would believe his story about the innocence.  
  
It was a setup. A carefully crafted, thoroughly _planned_ setup.  
  
Suman’s jaw clenched. He had been trapped, but he wouldn’t give in entirely.  
  
With this decision made, Suman remained silent. He said nothing.  
  
The silence, although off-putting, did not seem to frustrate Sheril. He remained nonplussed, as he spoke again. “You realize that by choosing silence, you leave us to assume to the worst, correct? With you being the last person seen going with the prince into the woods, it doesn’t look very promising for your future.”  
  
Tension filled Suman. Damn it. He knew what was coming – this _bastard_ was going to pin Alma’s disappearance and so-seeming death onto him as a scapegoat. And it didn’t matter what Suman tried to say – he knew already that no matter what he did or said, his words and actions would be twisted, and if anything he’d only put others at risk.  
  
Bitterly, Suman knew deep down that he couldn’t win this. He couldn’t fight this.  
  
Silent. Suman stayed silent, and did not respond to Sheril.  
  
As Suman neglected to speak, Tricia brought a hand to her mouth shakily, and looked as though she were trying to take a small breath.   She closed her eyes, as she desperately strained to remain composed.  
  
It was a heartbreaking sight, but Suman never spoke. Not even as the guards came to take him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna we now know why Sheril just sort of “let Suman go” when Suman failed to bring back Alma’s innocence. (Someone would eventually have to take the fall for that, and Sheril was going to damn well make sure it wasn’t getting back to him)
> 
> In general, this was another politically-heavy chapter given so much of the focus was back at the castle, and what’s been happening there. (Hopefully these scenes aren’t too boring - I know it’s a lot of plot and info, so I’m trying to address things in a way that’s engaging but not muddled?) Things are pretty quickly spiraling out of control there though, with Suman now getting blamed for Alma’s disappearance (and it sucks, because he can’t really defend himself? Suman is still under the impression that Sheril thinks Alma is dead, and with his family being on the line, and the guilt there...yeah, Suman is going to keep his mouth shut if he at least thinks he’s protecting them).
> 
> Though, thankfully Klaud, Bookman, and Lavi are there, soooooo. >.>
> 
> There was some more development (ish) bits with Kanda and Alma though! Obviously after last chapter, Alma’s going to be wrecked (I mean...I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t be >.<), and he’s really having to process the effects of that and how severe the situation really has become (which, is going to factor into how he feels about returning later on *cough*). There’s a lot to take in, and between everything that’s happened, he’s just sort of hit that breaking point? So Kanda’s there, and he’s just not good with dealing with emotions - but he still is making something of an effort, and it was a part I really enjoyed writing. (In a lot of ways, Kanda is also becoming something of a stable anchor for Alma, and that’s going to add to any attachment)
> 
> On another side note, Daisya’s little sensory thing with magic: there was a little lack of clarity I realized about how he sensed the mirror’s energy in the woods, but not in the house. It gets addressed more next chapter (I thought it was this one, but got them mixed up), but mirrors in a lot of magical practice are tools (anyone who does witchy stuff like me is probably vaguely familiar with this XD). They can be charged with energy, but it’s at different levels. So, when Road was creating that “illusion/dream” for Alma, it was using WAY more energy than say like, spying on and watching them - and it sort of is a testament to the amount of power she was using to mess with Alma.
> 
> I also know we haven’t seen where Marie and Tiedoll are for a bit, but don’t worry! You’ll see them again next chapter, and what’s going on with them. ;D
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the update! <3


	19. The Ripples Beneath

Alma wondered if he should have gone back to his room.  
  
He remained there, out in the hallway and still. It was darker, as night had fallen once again, with the day having passed by in something of a blur. After Kanda had come by Alma’s room earlier to ask about the mirror, Alma had eventually wandered downstairs – somewhat distant, and a little quiet. But, he had tried to be normal, whatever normal was. It helped that Daisya seemed rather pre-occupied working on whatever it was he was doing with the mirror, and that Kanda wasn’t talkative much in general. Alma had simply asked what chores needed to be done, and busied himself with that once he knew what he was doing.  
  
Occasionally, Alma noticed that Kanda would check on him – or at least, what Alma thought counted as being checked on. It was never extensive, but every so often throughout the day Kanda would find Alma. Kanda didn’t always say anything; sometimes he would mostly just spare a glance as though to make sure Alma hadn’t wandered off again.  
  
Alma really wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He knew that Kanda hadn’t been happy with having him around in the first place, and a part of Alma wondered if Kanda felt burdened by Alma’s presence. However, Alma couldn’t deny that Kanda had seemed a bit more _tolerant_ than before – or was that something that Alma could have misinterpreted? Alma didn’t know, and it was confusing to try to figure such things out.  
  
Maybe Alma was grasping at straws. That seemed likely.  
  
A sigh escaped Alma, small and hardly audible. It was late enough that everyone should have been asleep – but Alma was once again restless. He was tired, but the idea of falling asleep was unsettling. After the previous night he felt annoyingly vulnerable as well. It wasn’t a way that Alma liked feeling, and more than anything he wanted to reduce the potency of such a sensation.  
  
Now, Alma was pathetically standing in front of Kanda’s bedroom door, debating on whether knocking would be worth the effort.  
  
Alma further wavered. In all honestly, he didn’t want to be alone at the moment – a very lame and childish reason to be bothering anyone, he felt like. But, Daisya had already gone to sleep, and Alma had heard Kanda go into his room not too long ago. And Alma…  
  
What was it Alma felt about Kanda? Frustrated much of the time, yet for whatever reason there was a small pull tugging Alma to see Kanda out. Perhaps it was because Kanda had been the one to pull Alma out of the water; Alma didn’t know. He didn’t understand how these things worked.  
  
Gently, Alma kicked the floorboard. Kanda might have already gone to sleep, and if he did, Alma didn’t want to wake him up-  
  
The door opened, somewhat swiftly, and Alma tensed a little in surprise. Kanda peered at him in a scowl. “What?” Kanda asked irritably.  
  
Regret flickered in Alma’s eyes. This was a mistake, and Alma should have just swallowed any anxieties that were clinging to him. He should have just tried to sleep. “Uh – sorry, it’s nothing,” Alma stammered out, as he completely floundered with his response.  
  
Kanda scoffed. “I could _hear_ you hanging out here. What the fuck do you need?”

The question was blatantly direct, and Alma felt a conflicting pull of instincts: one to turn on his heel and leave, and the other to freeze. Neither won over, and instead Alma blurted an answer, as his words speedily seemed to mash together. “I couldn’t sleep.”  
  
Kanda stared at Alma blankly.  
  
Alma broke eye contact somewhat awkwardly. Looking at the ground was oddly more interesting, and seemed to be a better focal point as Alma attempted to speak again. “Can…I come in?” He asked, this time a bit more quietly.  
  
Kanda’s more annoyed expression fractured as he heard the request, and confusion appeared in his eyes. He looked at Alma, somewhat uncertainly, and seemed as though he were trying to process if he had heard the words correctly.  
  
Kanda rubbed the back of his neck. “You…want to come in?” He asked, sounding unsure and as though he needed some kind of explanation.  
  
Still avoiding eye contact, Alma nodded. Inside, he could feel himself squirm uneasily. Did Kanda think it was weird that Alma was asking for this? Probably. Even _Alma_ thought it was weird.  
  
There was a hesitant pause, and Alma was by this point expecting to be turned away.  
  
Surprisingly, Kanda stepped aside.  
  
Bewilderment filled Alma’s eyes, and he looked at Kanda curiously.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “Do you want to come in or not?”  
  
Somewhat impulsively, Alma entered inside before Kanda could change his mind. He hadn’t been in Kanda’s room since the night of the akuma attack, when Kanda had been impacted by the toxic fumes. Nothing had changed since then; the room was plain, and there was little to personalize it. The only thing notable was the candle that Kanda had lit on a small, desk-like table beneath the window. On the table, Alma could see there were a few dried herbs and flowers spread out, with jars as well.  
  
Alma looked back at Kanda with inquisitive eyes. “Could you not sleep either?” He asked.  
  
Kanda shrugged, and went to sit down at the table. Without speaking, he began to place the herbs into different jars.  
  
Alma watched Kanda, as intrigue tickled his mind. He had seen Kanda taking herbs and flowers from the garden, but Alma hadn’t actually seen what Kanda did with them after until now. Innocently, Alma walked over to where Kanda was and peeked over his shoulder.  
  
Sensing Alma’s presence almost instantly, Kanda turned sharply. “What?”  
  
Alma blinked, and his eyes lingered on the jars curiously. “I just wanted to see what you were doing.”  
  
Kanda sighed in mild exasperation, and returned to focusing on jarring the dried herbs. “It’s what it looks like – I’m jarring these…”  
  
“Why?” Alma asked, as he sat down on the bed. “Do you do something with them?”  
  
Eyes flashing over to Alma briefly, Kanda looked as though he were debating on how he wanted to answer Alma, and if he even had the patience to do so. Evidentially, he was feeling more tolerant than normal, as he answered while continuing to work. “It’s one of the things we trade when we need to get supplies.”  
  
Understanding filled Alma. He supposed that it made sense, and that Kanda and the others would need to have something to trade or sell in order to get what they needed supply-wise. “Oh,” Alma said, before another question entered his mind. “What about everyone else? Do they trade anything?”  
  
Kanda answered, still without looking at Alma. “Tiedoll occasionally sells small drawings, and Marie will sometimes get money from playing music. Daisya doesn’t really trade anything, but he has done protective charms over people’s homes before.”  
  
Alma was surprised by this. He could see where it all fit though, what with the art he supplies he had seen Tiedoll with, and how Daisya was so adept in magic. Marie Alma had heard a few times playing something since he had been there, but he had never considered any of these things that the exorcists would have needed to make a living off of.  
  
“I didn’t realize you all traded things off like that…” Alma spoke, more so to himself than Kanda.  
  
Kanda frowned, even while working. “Tch. It’s not like we get paid to be exorcists…”  
  
Alma’s eyes briefly became thoughtful, as he looked away. He shifted his position, as he crossed a leg while seated. Kanda was right – if the exorcists weren’t a part of a unit, it wasn’t as though they would get any compensation for the work they did. That usually came from the royals.  
  
Alma looked back at Kanda, then to the herbs. “Is this what you did before you became an exorcist?”  
  
Kanda paused, as his muscles seemed to stiffen a bit. A few seconds passed.  
  
Finally, Kanda answered. “I didn’t trade herbs. I just was a gardener.”  
  
“Oh, so that’s how you know so much about plants then!” Alma realized. He sounded genuinely interested upon learning this detail; Alma knew so little about any of the exorcists, and especially Kanda. It was fascinating for the prince to hear anything about their personal lives at this point. “Do you miss it?”  
  
As Alma posed this question, Kanda sneered. “If you mean where I was, no. That place was shit.”  
  
The response held an edge of scathing hostility, and for a moment Alma wasn’t certain as to how he should react. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked away uneasily. “Oh…I’m sorry,” Alma offered, not entirely sure what he was apologizing for. But, something in the way Kanda had responded had seemed to warrant it, and Alma felt oddly guilty for having even asked.  
  
Kanda turned to face Alma slightly, pausing on his work. He then looked away again. “It’s fine.”  
  
There was a slightly long moment that stretched on, as silence lingered in the room. Alma shifted his position again. He was finally beginning to feel a little tired, but and he was also starting to feel slightly more at ease than he had before. However, Alma found himself hesitant to leave just yet, as the previous night’s events still loomed in the back of his mind.  
  
“You miss where you’re from, huh?”  
  
The question caught Alma off guard. He looked up, and could see Kanda’s dark blue eyes resting on him, as an oddly contemplative look seemed to brew within them.  
  
Alma wavered, as the familiar stab of longing pierced his chest. His gaze moved downward. “Yeah…” Alma admitted, not able to forge a lie in this instant.  
  
Kanda scoffed softly, and turned away. He jarred a few more herbs. “If Sheril Kamelot tried to have you killed, you’re better off not even being there,” Kanda mumbled, words startlingly blunt. “There’s no point in wanting what you can’t have…”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything. Had Kanda spoken the words a few days ago, he might have argued, but given what all had happened, and how _tired_ Alma felt…  
  
Alma sighed. “I know…” He spoke, words quiet. As he said this, he rubbed an eye; he was feeling worn out by this point, and if anything, that was contributing to Alma’s low energy responses.  
  
Kanda’s attention returned to Alma briefly, just in time to catch the small indication of sleepiness. He spoke up, with an edge of annoyance in his tone. “If you’re tired, just lie down or something. Don’t fall over.”  
  
Alma looked confused. “You mean in here?”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “Sure. That or your room. I don’t care,” He grumbled before looking away. “I’ll be awake a while anyways…”  
  
Alma hesitated. He hadn’t expected Kanda to make such an offer, but given how tired Alma was, he wasn’t opposed to it – and as silly as it was, he didn’t really want to go back to his room yet, either.  
  
Shifting his position once more, Alma glanced at Kanda. “Um…wake me up when you have to go to sleep? I don’t want to take your bed.”  
  
Kanda grumbled another response. “I’ll wake you up. Just shut up and rest.”  
  
Despite the somewhat rough command, Alma could feel a smile tug at the corners of his lips. “Thanks, Yuu.”  
  
Kanda didn’t say anything back, and Alma lied down on his side. He watched Kanda work for a short while longer, though his eyes soon close, and he fell asleep.  
  


* * *

  
  
The woods were cold.   As autumn had taken hold, its chilled, crisp hands clutched and clasped at the earth; leaves continued to darken in color, and those that were weak snapped at the stems. The sky was somewhat overcast, and what should have been bright cerulean was now clouded in faded gray that further stripped the air of any warmth.  
  
Tiedoll and Marie trekked through the woods. Both had their cloaks on, with the hoods pulled up to assist in protecting them from the autumn chill; it was always a bit cooler at night, but as the days passed into fall, the temperatures had begun to drop slightly more, further warranting the additional coverings.  
  
As they walked along, Marie paused.   They were on their way to the village that was supposedly dealing with an akuma, and had done their best to travel quickly to increase their speed of arrival. However, they still had a small bit of a way to go – at least another hour or so of walking, if they really tried to move fast. Since they had traveled extensively through the evening and it was now morning, there was a high chance they’d make it before noon.  
  
Tiedoll stopped, and turned to Marie. “Marie, what is it?” He asked.  
  
Marie didn’t answer immediately, as he listened to their surroundings. A pensive expression was on his face.   “Up ahead – I can hear something,” He answered lowly. “Like voices…”  
  
Tiedoll frowned in contemplation.  He trusted Marie’s ears, of course; the man had keen hearing, and could often pick up on things that Tiedoll would miss.  However, Tiedoll was perplexed by this news.  The village was still far enough away that there shouldn’t have been anyone close to where Tiedoll and Marie were.  They had purposely taken a route away from any paths, more so to remain discreet in their arrival as well as their eventual departure.  
  
“We’ll proceed with caution,” Tiedoll said quietly.  “Keep your ears out, I’ll keep my eyes out.”  
  
Marie nodded, and the two of them continued onward.  
  
As they walked on, both Tiedoll and Marie remained wary of their surroundings.  There were never as many animals in the woods, save for an occasional critter or bird, so there was hardly any noise.  Only the sound of twigs softly crunching beneath their steps could be heard – and eventually, more voices.  
  
Both exorcists stopped, with Tiedoll now picking up on the noise as well.  Marie adjusted his headphones, and turned his face, trying to locate the exact direction of the voices.  “They’re west,” Marie noted quietly.  “Just a short bit up ahead.”  
  
Caution befell the two exorcists. They continued steadily, careful to remain as silent in their movement as possible; eventually, the voices became audible enough that any dialogue could be made out, and through the trees, Tiedoll caught sight of several men.  
  
Guards.  
  
Recognition and alarm filled Tiedoll’s eyes. “Hide,” Tiedoll whispered, as he and Marie hid behind several trees. Since the woods were so dense and shadowed, it was easy for them to conceal themselves. From where they were, they could also see and hear the men nearby.  
  
Guards. Guards from _Arcaia_. Tiedoll could see that much from the uniforms they wore and the crests they bore: a plain, thin cross. Not like the rose cross of the council – no, this one was thinner, and only composed of four points. Slightly elongated, and narrow.  
  
“Arcaian guards,” Tiedoll whispered to Marie.  
  
Marie frowned. “Out here? We’re still in Engelus…”  
  
Before Tiedoll could respond, one of the guards spoke, catching he attention of both exorcists.  
  
“We’re looking for a group of exorcists – they were last reported seen in this area,” One of the guards was saying to the others. “There should be at least be three, but there could be another with them. And at least two of them are wanted for treason. Keep looking a bit longer in this area, and we’ll return to the village to regroup after.”  
  
Immediately, Tiedoll tensed. “Damn it, they know we’re _here_ -“  
  
Marie turned to Tiedoll. “How? Kanda was sure only Daisya was seen, and even if they had seen him…”  
  
Tiedoll shook his head. “I…don’t know,” He said, as he tried to contemplate on what to do next. He exhaled. “We can’t continue onto the village though. Not if the guards are there…”  
  
Marie’s mouth formed a thin line. “That akuma could still be there,” He commented. “But we’ll have to trust that at the very least the guards will do enough to maintain things. If they’re staying there, we’ll have to be assured by that much.”  
  
While Marie had a point, Tiedoll felt his mouth form a more severe frown. Retreating when looking into anything involving an akuma was never something Tiedoll found ideal, especially if others were involved. However, given the nature of their situation, going to the village when there were guards in the area would have been nothing short of suicide.  
  
Tiedoll sighed. “You’re right,” He acknowledged. “But if guards are beginning to look through these woods…”  
  
Tiedoll trailed off, and looked at Marie. “We need to go back now. We can’t risk them finding us, or the others.”  
  
Marie’s face was solemn. “Do you think it’s time we move?” He asked, voice low.  
  
Although the inquiry was not detailed, Tiedoll knew what Marie was referring to: whether or not it was time to leave the house, and go elsewhere.  
  
Tiedoll thought, but only for a moment. “Let’s hurry back,” He spoke. “It’s not safe here anymore.”  
  
To this, Marie only nodded. The two exorcists then carefully slipped away, into the shadows of the woods before any of the guards could catch them.

 

* * *

  
  
Kanda awoke to two things: silence and stiffness.  
  
Eyes still shut, Kanda felt his face twist into displeasure.  He was mildly aware that his cheek was resting against something cool, and hard –  _wood_ , he realized.  Stiff, flat,  _uncomfortable_  wood.  
  
The desk.  He had fallen asleep at the desk.  
  
At first, Kanda felt his nerves twitch irritably.  Kanda tried to avoid falling asleep in awkward positions; it never did him any good, and only seemed to sour his mood whenever he woke up.   
  
He opened his eyes, only to shut them again as he felt the light pour in through the window – which felt oddly bright despite the sky being blindingly gray.   _‘Ugh,’_  Kanda thought, as he attempted a second time.  It took a few seconds to adjust, but soon the brightness seemed normal, and Kanda was able to focus.   When he reached that point, he glanced at the desk, spying the jarred herbs from the night before.  Had he fallen asleep working?  
  
Kanda frowned softly, before turning his attention toward the bed.  Why hadn’t he just gone to sleep there-  
  
The thought stopped abruptly as soon as Kanda’s eyes landed on the bed.   _‘Oh.’_  
  
That was right – the royal had fallen asleep there.  
  
Kanda stared for a moment.  He could see Alma, lying on his side and slightly curled. His eyes were closed as he faced the direction that Kanda was in.  From where he was, Kanda could tell that the prince was still well asleep, as gentle, even breaths escaped him.  
  
Kanda remembered more of the night before.  Alma had asked to come in, and for whatever reason, Kanda had let him.  Not only that, but Kanda had even offered to let Alma sleep in his bed – though, Kanda wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do _that_.  It wasn’t like Alma had even expected to stay there all night; he had requested that Kanda be sure to wake him up when Kanda wanted to sleep.  
  
But, when Kanda  _had_  finally felt his eyelids beginning to pull downward and made the decision to turn in for the night, Kanda just…hadn’t done it.  It was like he had all but taken one look at Alma, finally asleep and  _calm_ , and just…  
  
Kanda sat more upright.  He wasn’t sure what time it was; outside, the sky was overcast with white and gray clouds, strangely bright and cold in their appearance.    
  
It was probably still morning.  Kanda stood, deciding he might as well go on and head downstairs – maybe speak with Daisya, if he were awake, and see if the other exorcist had learned anymore from the few recovered mirror fragments.    
  
Again, Kanda’s eyes moved over to Alma.  The royal was so still, and looked comfortable – peaceful, too.  It was actually an almost pleasant sight given how distraught Alma had been the previous morning.  
  
Without speaking, Kanda headed out of the room, opting to leave Alma be.  
  
As Kanda left his room, he gently shut the door behind him – just as Daisya was heading down the hall toward him.  
  
Kanda looked up, noticing Daisya’s somewhat disheveled appearance.  He looked as though he hadn’t slept much.  “You look like shit,” Kanda bluntly stated.  
  
Daisya snorted.  “You look like a dream yourself.  What’s with the half-assed ponytail?”  
  
Kanda’s face scrunched up into a scowl, and he resisted the urge to re-tie his hair right there – he wasn’t about to give Daisya  _that_ satisfaction.    
  
Changing the topic, Kanda spoke.  “Find out anything?” He asked, referring to the mirror bits.  
  
Daisya shrugged, and leaned against the wall.  “I guess,” He said, before pulling out one of the fragments.  He looked at it, as something akin to mild annoyance flickered in his eyes.  “With what Alma told you, I guess it was some sort of illusion magic.   People used to use it back on the islands to keep invaders out and mess with their heads, but I mean that was _way_ back in the day.”  
  
Kanda frowned.  “That’s all it was?”  
  
In response, Daisya’s expression became more serious – an unsettling sight, given how Daisya was rarely such.  “Not really.  There was something else there – but I still don’t know what it is,” He responded.  His voice seemed to drop a notch in volume, as he continued.  “Whatever it was, it’s diluted to where I can’t get a real feel for it.  But mirrors are used in scrying.”  
  
Kanda’s expression only became more pensive.  He didn’t know anything magic related, and when Daisya started talking in weird, Aegaeon terms, that sort of thing went over Kanda’s head.  However, considering the tonal shift Kanda felt uneasy.  
  
“So what the hell does that mean?” Kanda asked.  
  
“Seeing the future. Looking into the spirit world. Things like that,” Daisya said with a slight wave of the hand. “But what I’m getting is that mirrors are used to….you know, see things.”  
  
Kanda still wasn’t quite following.  
  
Daisya rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Um, hello? You said a Kamelot gave this to Alma?” Daisya asked. “I’m kind of worried there might have been another reason other than screwing with his head…”  
  
Realization hit Kanda abruptly, as it dawned on him what Daisya was suggesting. “What, you think the thing was fucking _spying_ on us?” He asked, though he faintly remembered that Alma was sleeping just in the room behind him. Kanda lowered his voice. “Isn’t there a more solid way you could figure something like that out? We shouldn’t even have those fragments!” He hissed.  
  
“Look, it’s fine now – there’s no activity with it. Believe me, after spending all night with this shit I’d _know_ ,” Daisya said, before exhaling. “I’m not saying that’s what it was either, but I think we’d be stupid not to consider it…”  
  
Kanda’s expression was severe.   The possibility was as loathsome as it was appalling, and a sickening sensation seemed to seep into Kanda’s core. The fact that all this time they might have been getting watched was also _infuriating_ – especially if at the hands of a damned Kamelot.  
  
Kanda was suddenly well-reminded of why he despised royals so much. Twisted. Vicious. Unyielding. They didn’t like to lose, or to let anything get away. They didn’t like to let _anyone_ get away – not until they were through with them.  
  
The nobles in Arcaia had been like this. The fucking _Kamelots_ had been like this.  
  
Kanda could feel his fist clench in anger, as he seethed quietly. He couldn’t stand them. He couldn’t stand royals, and he _hated_ them-  
  
Alma’s face promptly flashed through Kanda’s mind.  
  
Taken aback by the shift in his thoughts, Kanda could feel his anger momentarily subside – just long enough to try to collect himself. He wasn’t sure why he had suddenly thought of the prince, or why it had been enough to ease the horrid feelings that threatened to boil inside – but Kanda didn’t focus on that, and instead re-focused on the conversation with Daisya.  
  
“What do you want to do?” Daisya was asking, keeping his voice quiet.  
  
Kanda averted his gaze, as he thought. “Tiedoll and Marie are still gone. They might not be back for a few days either,” He murmured lowly. His eyes flickered back to Daisya. “I can’t say I like the idea of just leaving without them…”  
  
Daisya nodded. “Yeah, well hopefully they come back soon. Like I said, I don’t know if that’s what it was, but at least we should talk with them when they get back…” He said. “I can add a few more seals until then, but aside from keeping out akuma it won’t do much regarding anyone else.”  
  
Kanda didn’t say anything, but was more than fine with that. Even if the seals were more geared for akuma, it was still something.  
  
Shifting his weight, Daisya looked at Kanda curiously. “Think we should tell little sleeping royal when he wakes up?”  
  
Kanda snorted under his breath at the name. “No. He was fucking riled enough yesterday, and I don’t think I can take dealing with that again…” Kanda muttered quietly, feeling particularly resistant to the idea of telling Alma any of this.   He could still recall all too vividly how distraught Alma had been after the incident in the woods, and what a mess he had been after. “Let’s just wait until Tiedoll and Marie get back.”  
  
Daisya gave a thumbs up. “Sounds good.”  
  
The door to Kanda’s room opened, and before Kanda turned he could hear the soft, sleepy voice that spoke. “Yuu?”  
  
Kanda looked back.  He could see where Alma was in the doorway, still sleepy and rubbing one eye.  His hair was a bit disheveled on one side – likely the side he had slept on – and Alma looked as though he were still attempting to wake up.  “Yuu, you should have woken me up so I didn’t steal your bed…” Alma mumbled softly.  
  
For whatever reason, Kanda found it difficult not to stare – but he could hear Daisya stifle some kind of noise – likely a snicker of amusement.  Kanda had to fight the impulse to glare at him; he didn’t want Alma to notice.  
  
Fortunately, it worked – whether it was from tired obliviousness or the lack of response Kanda barely managed, Alma didn’t seem to notice Daisya’s reaction.  Kanda took advantage of it and spoke.  “It’s fine,” He responded, though his words seemed to come out in a low mumble.  
  
Alma looked as though he were trying to wake up a bit more, and looked in-between Kanda and Daisya.  “What were you guys talking about?” He asked.  
  
Daisya sobered up a bit at this, as did Kanda.  But, within a beat Daisya was able to answer with no problem, “Just asking this one how his night went,” Daisya commented, tone turning annoyingly _light_  as he eyed Kanda.  “Which I bet was  _great_ -“  
  
Immediately, Kanda whipped his head back in Daisya’s direction, his eyes flashing heatedly at the implied connotation.  “Shut  _up_ ,” Kanda hissed, not sure if he was more angered or disgusted by the direction Daisya’s joking nature had dived into.   Honestly, had Daisya really needed to go  _there_?  
  
Alma stared, more so confused than anything.  He didn’t appear to even understand what it was that Kanda had gotten so flustered by.  “Um…okay…” Alma said, a little uncertainly.  He ran a hand through his rather messy hair.  “I’m going to get breakfast…do we still have any of that mayo stuff?”  
  
“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Daisya said.  
  
Alma’s face instantly brightened. “Great!”  
  
Daisya looked like he was going to make another comment as Alma left downstairs, but Kanda immediately silenced him with a stare that would have even terrified death.  Daisya, however, only appeared amused.   
  
Kanda glowered.  “Got something to say?”  
  
Daisya snorted.  “Not at all,” He answered casually, despite there being a teasing gleam in his eyes.  “But the royal spent the night in your bed?  I’m surprised, Kanda.  He even called you  _Yuu_ , and you didn’t bite his head off.”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes.  “Idiot couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t need him having some weird break down or anything…it doesn’t mean shit.”  
  
“ _Sure._ Whatever you say,” Daisya said before giving a sly grin.  “Don’t worry – I won’t tell anyone you’re crushing.”  
  
Kanda sneered quietly.  “You’re delusional.  As if I’d ever like someone as irritating as the royal,” Kanda responded lowly, before stalking off.  He didn’t need to listen to Daisya’s  _obnoxious_  taunting – and certainly not when it was as far from the truth as he could have been.  
  
Kanda didn’t like Alma.  He didn’t like him  _at all_.  No, Kanda was only keeping an eye on Alma because that was what  _Tiedoll_ had asked him to do.  
  
It was nothing more than that.  


* * *

  
  
The cell was cold.   Dimly lit, it was closed off completely from the outside world and just beneath the ground level of the castle, nestled into the darkness, and hidden away. The only source of light was the burning of some of the torches on the wall, which flickered and crackled quietly. Shadows danced among the rough, stone walls, and their forms shifted and swirled like inky whispers of night.  
  
Klaud did not go down to the cells often. She never really had a reason to.   Her responsibilities were more directly linked to securing innocence and handling akuma – not dealing with criminals who warranted being locked away. Besides, it was a rare thing to have people in the cells; there were a few cases, but in general, crime was moderate to low in the kingdom. More often than not, anything that did occur could be dealt with immediately or on a lower scale. The cells were reserved for more treacherous individuals.  
  
Treacherous.  
  
Klaud felt her insides twist up at the word, but she pressed on, continuing down the hall. Most of the cells were vacant, and there were only a few guards ever stationed in the area. But, Klaud soon approached one cell in particular that was guarded by two men.  
  
The guards eyed Klaud, expressions severe as she stood before them.  
  
“I’d like to speak to him,” Klaud spoke.  
  
One of the guards responded.   “I’m sorry. He’s not to speak to anyone-“  
  
Klaud’s violet irises flashed coldly. Even Lau Shimin, who had remained quiet up until this point, seemed to have an unfriendly look to his eyes.  
  
This caused the guard to hesitate a little, and he looked over at the other guard uncertainly. The second guard merely nodded his head, and unlocked the cell door.  
  
The first guard moved out of the way for Klaud. “Ah – um. Try to keep it under a few minutes,” The guard said, though his resolve appeared to have weakened.  
  
Klaud said nothing more, and walked passed the guard. She entered into the cell: a dark, isolating place. There was only a bench-like area to sit on, with a thin, mat-like cot. Klaud was not interested in observing the makings of the cell, though; no, she was interested in the occupant.  
  
Suman looked up at Klaud. There were bags beneath his eyes, and he looked pitifully exhausted. The blueness of his eyes appeared to have dulled, and his expression was weary. His shoulders were also slightly slumped, as he had been leaning over, seated on the bench as though he had been pondering something.  
  
Klaud fought to keep her face composed, though something inside her cracked. “What happened?” She asked, voice low and barely audible.  
  
Suman stared, then looked away.  
  
Klaud’s eyes grew cold. “Suman – _what happened_?” She asked, repeating herself yet again. This time, her question was more audible, and frustrated. Usually, Klaud was not one to let her emotions overtake her. However, in this particular instance she found it a grating challenge to manage such.  
  
Despite the way Klaud’s words came out, Suman still remained silent. Klaud exhaled heavily, and Lau Shimin jumped off of her shoulder. Quickly, the monkey scampered up to where he was beside Suman on the bench, and began chattering loudly at the other exorcist.  
  
Suman turned, and glanced at the monkey. He sighed, and closed his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Having Lau yell at me won’t change anything, Klaud…”  
  
Klaud frowned. “No, but he did get you to speak,” She spoke coolly. “Suman, what’s going on? They’re saying-“  
  
“I know what they’re saying,” Suman murmured. “I know…”  
  
“But it’s not _true_ ,” Klaud argued. “Suman, I know you. You wouldn’t let anything happen to Alma, just like I wouldn’t, and you certainly wouldn’t…”  
  
Klaud trailed off, finding it horribly difficult to finish the sentence. She took a breath. “Suman,” She said, as she looked away briefly. Klaud attempted to compose herself.  
  
Facing Suman again, Klaud attempted to speak. “Suman, I need you to tell me what happened – and what you know about where Alma is,” She said, though she was met with only silence. In frustration, she added, “Suman, I can’t _help_ you if you don’t tell me what you know.”  
  
Suman’s jaw tightened, and for a moment he looked as though he wanted to speak. However, he kept his mouth shut.  
  
Klaud felt something break inside, and for a shattering moment disappointment flashed in her eyes as she looked at Suman regretfully.  
  
Lau chattered softly, and poked Suman. But, Suman ignored the monkey as well.  
  
Klaud turned abruptly, and headed back toward the cell door. She paused, only to let Lau climb back onto her shoulder, and without looking back at Suman she spoke. “I’ll try to come back later. I don’t know what exactly you’re hiding, but maybe then you’ll actually want to talk.”  
  
But, as before Klaud could only hear silence, even as she walked off and left the cell behind her.  
  
The guards had said nothing, and fortunately let Klaud leave without any issue. For this, Klaud was glad: she knew that she had pushed it by even going down to the cells, given how chaotically everything had suddenly unraveled, and given how terribly unstable things had become.  
  
Klaud still was trying to process it all. When Suman had been taken in to be questioned again, she had known something was wrong. When he had not returned in what was an acceptable timeframe, she had known something was _terribly_ wrong.  
  
And then when Klaud had heard the news, her fears were confirmed.  
  
Klaud didn’t believe it, though. She didn’t believe Suman was the one to kill Alma. Suman had not given a verbal confession, either; he had only remained silent, from what Klaud understood. A wise move, if he was innocent, but fatal if he knew not how to defend himself.  
  
And Suman wasn’t defending himself - which terrified Klaud.  
  
He knew something. Suman knew something, but for whatever reason he wasn’t _talking_ -  
  
“Now isn’t the time to let your guard down.”  
  
Klaud’s head whipped around, and her focus landed on the speaker. Bookman was there, having somehow approached Klaud without her noticing. A fatal error, had it been someone else – Klaud was immediately irritated at herself for having allowed her mind to grow so distant. Without being alert, she was vulnerable.  
  
Bookman didn’t wait for any kind of excuse or explanation from Klaud. They were at the entryway which led down into the cells, which was somewhat cut off and hidden away on the ground level of the castle. Because of this, Bookman had been able to get a smoke in, as the rolled tobacco hung from his lips.  
  
“Did you speak with Suman?” Bookman asked, before letting out a small drag. “You seemed quite confident that you’d be able to learn the truth from him.”  
  
Klaud’s expression remained stony, and her gaze averted pensively. “No,” She spoke quietly. “He’s refusing to say much of anything.”  
  
Bookman took another drag of the cigarette, and Klaud continued, as her voice was low. “He didn’t do it, though. He didn’t kill Alma.”  
  
There was a pause, and Bookman’s eyes moved to Klaud astutely. “And you think he knows where the prince is?”  
  
“I think he knows he’s hiding,” Klaud specified. “Just before he was brought into questioning yesterday, Suman made a comment. About Alma possibly not wanting to be found…”  
  
“Meanwhile, we have an exorcist being blamed for the possible death of another one – and a royal this time,” Bookman observed. “It’s like what happened in Arcaia all over again.”  
  
Klaud looked over at Bookman questioningly. She frowned. “You were in Arcaia when the accused exorcist and his general disappeared,” Klaud noted. “Do you think there’s a connection?”  
  
Bookman pulled the cigarette from his lips, and tapped it against the wall. Several ashes fell to the stone floor. “Perhaps,” He spoke, though Bookman didn’t elaborate much more.  
  
After a moment, Bookman spoke again. “Have you spoken with the queen?”  
  
Klaud shook her head. “No. The queen is so distressed thinking her son is possibly dead that….she won’t see anyone,” Klaud said, before adding icily. “Sheril won’t exactly let anyone near her, either.”  
  
“Hm. I’m not surprised by that,” Bookman stated, as he threw the bud of the cigarette on the ground. He gently placed his foot on hit, smothering the remains out. “Let me see what I can do.”  
  
Before Bookman could leave, Klaud stopped him. “Bookman,” She started, as she earned the man’s attention. As Bookman looked back at her, Klaud met his gaze directly. “What happened to the exorcists in Arcaia?”  
  
Bookman only stared at Klaud for a moment, then turned away as though he planned to keep walking.  
  
Klaud tried again. “I _know_ you know what happened.”  
  
Without turning, Bookman spoked in a clipped response. “You should focus on your own unit. After this, you may not have one left.”  
  
To this, Klaud said nothing. She only watched as Bookman walked off.  


* * *

  
  
The archives were quiet. Filled with dust, and a musty air, the archives felt as though no one had visited them in ages. The door had been shut so tightly that it had been a struggle to make it budge, and in some corners there were even a few small cobwebs that the eye could see. Shelves rimmed the walls, and books of texts of all sorts lined them, untouched with some documents falling apart like fragile sculptures of sand.  
  
It was a crime for such a place to be ignored – at least, in Lavi’s opinion it was.  
  
Currently, Lavi was seated at a small desk wedged over behind some shelves as he flipped through the pages of several documents. Since arriving back in Engelus, Lavi hadn’t actually been able to do much aside from read. It was a little frustrating; typically Lavi would have been thrilled to have been given such open access to the royal archives, but at the same time there was a bitter taste in his mouth considering what it was that had even caused Queen Tricia to do such a thing.  
  
It was also frustrating that Lavi wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, either. Bookman had merely sent him off, telling Lavi to going through the archives. A vague set of instructions, and one that left Lavi’s head spinning in annoyance. He might have been an incredibly fast reader, but there was a lot of material.  
  
There had been one thing, though, that Lavi had wanted to revisit. Something that had been itching at the back of his head ever since he had looked at it his last time in Engelus. Of course, tracking the medical documents Lavi had previously read hadn’t been the easiest excursion – but, Lavi had found them, and he was re-reading them thoroughly.  
  
_‘Where was it…’_ Lavi thought, as he flipped through the pages. Eventually, his eyes landed on what he had been seeking: the late king’s records, just before he died.  
  
Frowning, Lavi looked at the notes, and some scratched out drawings. A body. Black markings. Just like the other documents Lavi had read involving the Noah before Bookman had interrupted Lavi to inform him of the Alma’s disappearance.  
  
Lavi frowned a bit, as his one good eye looked over the documents in fierce contemplation. _  
  
“King Victor was brought back after a supposed hunting trip, but when he came back there were a series of black markings covering his body. He was unconscious, and unresponsive to any attempts to be woken up, with almost no pulse found.”_  
  
Lavi continued to read on. _  
  
“The Exorcist General had been with him, apparently having to needed to have accompanied the king on the trip. She claimed that while they were out, a strange, wild black panther of some breed attacked the king-“_  
  
Lavi paused. Black panther? Those weren’t around in this area, were they? Maybe a few large wild cats, but panthers were more found in areas like the south of Ying. Nowhere near Engelus.  
  
_“The beast couldn’t be contained, but since the markings only appeared after the panther attacked the king, it might have been some kind of breed with a toxin-“  
  
_ Lavi inwardly grimaced. He didn’t mind animals, but a panther with some kind of _venom_ was definitely unsettling.  
  
Shaking his head, Lavi tried to finish what he could. Most of what he remembered was there though: the king never woke up, remaining in a coma for a very short time. Eventually, his heartbeat stopped entirely.  
  
_‘Weird,’_ Lavi thought, as he recalled what he had read in the other documents. The Noah had apparently had a way of dealing with individuals they found to be a problem – though, such actions were usually reserved for exorcists.  
  
_‘Unless a Noah thought King Victor was a problem…’_ Lavi thought, as he pondered what he ha read further. Actually, it was strange that the general – Klaud Nine – would have been on a hunting trip with the king. Unless…  
  
_‘Unless they were hunting something else…’_ Lavi realized.  
  
Someone entered into the archives, and Lavi looked up. He saw it was Bookman. “What’s up, Gramps?” Lavi asked, as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand.  
  
Bookman, who usually was so easily incensed by Lavi’s light-natured tone, didn’t bat an eye. “I have something for you to do,” Bookman said, as he watched Lavi carefully. “But it might be a lot. Even for you.”  
  
Without missing a beat, Lavi smiled – though the expression failed to meet his eye.  
  
“Lay it on me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I’m taking it easy with writing, but this chapter was pretty much good to go so up it went. XD
> 
> One thing I’ve wanted to address for a while is /how/ the exorcists are surviving. I don’t know - I tend to notice details like that, and they need some way to make a living, right? (Like Kanda says, it’s not as though they actually make any money off of hunting akuma). Trading things seemed like a good way to go about things, so there is that. 
> 
> ((And I think by now anyone who knows me knows that if I can find a way to have Kanda work with plants then...yeah. Yeah, I’m going to do that.))
> 
> As for Tiedoll and Marie, I know a few people were probably speculating a more...intense way that Tyki might deal with them. (Trust me, intense things are coming, and they’ll hurt) But Tyki, in a bit of a similar way to Sheril, is going to be more careful and discreet rather than sending an akuma (Which, really Tiedoll and Marie would probably know how to handle) against them. A guard trap made more sense, especially since there is so much to this plot politically.
> 
> And the mirror - the mirror is pretty much not a threat anymore, and fortunately Daisya is onto the possibility (aka fact) that they were spied on. But Alma doesn’t know (like he doesn’t know a lot of things still), and that reality will definitely be crashing down soon.
> 
> ((Meanwhile, slkdjflsdjfskldfj just sitting here as I sloooowwwwly keep trying to push Alma and Kanda into ship territory. Slowly. Next chapter more happens on that front))
> 
> On another note, I really enjoy writing Klaud, and I liked writing her in this (she and Lau be tag teaming against those guards like what a duo I love them). Suman is still in a tight place though, and in a way really thinks he’s making the best decision by keeping his mouth shut (because remember, he THINKS Sheril believes Alma is dead). But Klaud is trying, and now Bookman is going to have Lavi do a thing. >.> (As Lavi continues to uncover things - again, those medical journals are coming full circle, as well as what those markings are and where they’ll show up again)
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! As a head’s up, some of the next few chapters are going to start getting longer, so are taking me a bit more time to get through - which means the updates may come a bit slower. I’ll still be trying to update weekly, but there’s a chance between that and me trying to find a new job I’ll skip a week here and there (Feel free to check out my tumblr for updates).
> 
> Thanks for the support! <3 As always, comments are welcome!


	20. A Glimpse in the Well

Another day passed, and things were beginning to feel normal.  
  
Well, things were beginning to feel as normal as they could – Alma wasn’t sure if he knew what normal would feel like in his given situation. Just a few weeks ago, “normal” had consisted of being back in a castle, with archery practice, and strained family meals. It had consisted of having a few friends, and feeling oddly isolated at times, and all while having a sense that something subtle was off, just enough to be ignored and discarded.  
  
Being ignorant. Being unaware.  
  
Alma had never really thought he was unaware before, but after the last few weeks….  
  
Alma re-focused, as he tried to quiet the chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions that yearned to course through him. For the most part, Alma had been able to dilute the sensations: the painful longing to go back, the constant wondering over how his mother was doing, what Klaud and Suman were doing. Sheril. Alma knew that he would only distress himself by thinking about them all, and after the incident several nights ago with the mirror in the woods, Alma couldn’t take thinking about them constantly. It hurt too much, and the more time passed, the more Alma found it hard to ignore the fact that he likely never would see them again.  
  
So, Alma had fallen into a rhythm. A safe, predictable rhythm.  
  
That felt normal – being in a rhythm. Alma had finally gotten into a flow of living with the other exorcists as he adjusted. He had started to gain an understanding of what chores needed to be done and when, and eventually things started to feel surprisingly natural. It had helped to take Alma’s mind off things as well, while also making Alma feel as though he were doing something productive rather than just sitting around and being useless. In fact, Alma really _liked_ doing chores; it was even therapeutic.  
  
_‘It must be why Anna always seemed so content,’_ Alma thought, as he happened to think back to Suman’s wife while sweeping near the back door of the house. Often, Alma had seen the woman happily doing different chores when he had gone to visit Jaime, and now Alma somewhat understood why it was she sometimes seemed so at ease.  
  
Alma paused, as a thoughtful look danced through his eyes. _‘I wonder if she and Jaime are okay…’_ Alma wondered, as he recalled what Suman had said before about Sheril’s threat regarding their safety. A cold sensation passed through Alma, and he then thought of his own mother, and how _close_ Sheril was to her.  
  
Alma shuddered, and fought the sickening way his stomach coiled. He shook his head, and swept some more.    
  
After a few moments, Alma finished sweeping the kitchen area. He had a small pile of dust and dirt collected that he would needed to toss, so he made sure to get that done. Opening the back door, he swept out the remains.  
  
The smell of fresh air tickled Alma’s nose, cool and somewhat damp. It wasn’t overcast anymore like it had been the day before, but Alma wondered if at some point during the night it might have drizzled a light rain.  
  
_‘It feels so nice out today,’_ Alma thought, as he took a moment to just inhale the open air.  
  
Alma stayed there for a second longer, before his ears picked up on the sound of something moving. It was subtle, but Alma turned, and quickly spied Kanda working over in the little garden area. Admittedly, Alma was surprised for not having noticed Kanda sooner considering he wasn’t far at all.  
  
Alma watched for a moment. Kanda apparently hadn’t noticed Alma either, and if he had, he made no signs of it. The other exorcist appeared so focus, though Kanda’s face wasn’t twisted into a standard scowl. If anything, Kanda almost looked peaceful – or at least, what was the closest Alma had ever seen to Kanda looking like such.  
  
Kanda paused his work, and looked up. His eyes happened to move in Alma’s direction, and their gazes unexpectedly locked.  
  
Alma froze, as his breath caught in his throat. It abruptly dawned on him that he had been just _staring_ at Kanda, and for who knew how long. Alma could feel his cheeks burn a little, and his pulse seemed to increase in speed.  
  
Then, something in Alma’s brain seemed to malfunction, and Alma swiftly retreated inside.  
  
Once out of sight, Alma shut the door quickly, and leaned back against the wall. He exhaled, uncertain as to why his heart just seemed to be _palpitating_ so loudly.  
  
_‘Weird,’_  Alma thought, as he tried to shake off the sensation.  He had no idea why he had reacted in such a way simply by making eye contact with Kanda; it wasn’t as though Kanda would lash out at him.  Well, maybe Kanda _might_  have when they first met – but, Kanda had become far more tolerant in the last few days.  Sometimes, even amiable, if not consistently glaring and glowering could be counted as such.  
  
Alma was still leaning against the wall, when Daisya entered. As the other young man walked into the kitchen, his sharp eyes landed on Alma, and he looked at the prince curiously.   “What’s with you?” Daisya asked, as he took note of Alma’s appearance.  
  
Alma blinked, and looked at Daisya in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asked, words coming out somewhat quickly.  
  
Daisya tilted his head to the side, and looked at Alma with shrewd eyes. “Your face is all red,” He bluntly pointed out.  
  
Somehow, this caused Alma’s face to heat up even more. He quickly strained for a response. “Um, it was colder outside today,” Alma said, as he looked away awkwardly. “I was out for a few minutes.”  
  
Daisya looked a bit perplexed by this, and raised an eyebrow. “I was just outside at the front, and it didn’t seem that cold…”  
  
Alma blanked on what to say to that, as the awkwardness he felt only seemed to increase. However, his thoughts seemed to stubbornly refuse to form into a coherent statement, as Alma was unable to respond.  
  
Daisya stared for a minute longer, before shrugging off the strange behavior. “Whatever,” He said before smirking at Alma. “Anyways, I think it’s time we try round two at the stove.”  
  
This caused surprised to flicker in Alma’s eyes, before he looked over at the stove warily. “Are you sure?” He asked, sounding a bit uneasy.   “Last time I kind of started a fire…”  
  
A snort of laughter escaped Daisya. “Yeah, so we probably should make sure you don’t ever do that again. Plus you can’t live off mayo sandwiches if no one is around to cook.”  
  
Alma looked back at Daisya, eyes bright. “I don’t mind!” He piped with a smile. “It’s really good. I don’t know how you guys could get tired of it.”  
  
“Um, because it’s _mayo_ ,” Daisya emphasized, as though the condiment’s identity alone were the most obvious reason in the world as to why one would get sick of it. “Seriously, aren’t royals supposed to have fancy food and shit? How the hell is it you like mayo so much?”  
  
Alma appeared a bit perplexed by this, not even certain as to what Daisya might have meant by “fancy.” He shifted his weight a little. “I mean…I just like what tastes good,” Alma said, before adding with a smile, “Like apples! Those are really good too.”  
  
“God, I hope you never combine the two.”  
  
Before Alma could comment, the door opened, and Kanda came inside. He was slightly dirtied from having been working outside, and his hair was thrown up messily.  
  
As Kanda made a move to look in Alma’s direction, Alma promptly tore his gaze away to avoid eye contact.  
  
Kanda scowled a bit as he saw this, and looked as though he were about to say something. However, Daisya spoke first, casually and somewhat oblivious to anything awkward going on.  
  
“Hey, want to chaperone our cooking lesson?”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes. “No. Both of you just need to stay away from the stove.”  
  
“Kanda, you’re no _fun_ ,” Daisya teased.  
  
“I’m not cleaning up your charred bodies.”  
  
There was a bit of back and forth of a banter following that, though Alma felt himself quickly lose focus. The words seemed to dissolve, and Alma’s mind quietly began to wander. Again, he could feel traces of the strange sensation from earlier when he had seen Kanda; it was such a bizarre feeling, and Alma instinctively looked around for some kind of distraction.  
  
Quickly, Alma’s eyes landed on the water basin kept in the area to use, and he could see that it was low.  
  
“Okay, so I didn’t watch carefully enough that one time – but that does _not_ mean I’m a terrible cook,” Daisya was arguing back playfully. “Before you never complained.”  
  
Kanda scoffed, still not persuaded. Just as he was preparing to counter, Kanda paused, as he watched Alma quickly leave through the back door with the basin.  
  
Kanda stared, as did Daisya who was the first to speak. “You know, he’s acting really weird today.”  
  
A frown appeared on Kanda’s face, and he turned to Daisya. “Did he say something to you?”  
  
Daisya shrugged. “No. He just seemed kind of flustered about something earlier. Don’t know what.”  
  
_‘Earlier?’_ Kanda thought, as his mind briefly wandered to earlier when Kanda had spotted Alma outside briefly. That had been a peculiar interaction; Kanda had only made eye contact, and the prince just sort of bolted back inside for no apparent reason. Could that have had anything to do with it?  
  
Kanda shook his head. “It’s probably nothing,” He mumbled, not even certain as to why they were talking about such a thing. It shouldn’t have been important.  
  
That was what Kanda told himself, but he found it a struggle to believe the words.  


* * *

  
  
Outside, the air was cool, but nowhere near as cold as what Alma had attempt to convey to Daisya. It was actually quite comfortable, as the autumn air gently caressed his skin like a cool brush of affection.  
  
Alma leaned against the edge of the well. He had come outside to refill the basin, but had yet to do so; it rested on the ground, still mostly empty and untouched.  
  
Alma should have already been done with it, as the process took hardly even a moment. However, once he had made it to the well, Alma had become distracted, and found himself for one reason or another putting off the simple task. It was odd, and Alma couldn’t quite explain it; but, it was as though he just needed to be away, and…somewhere else. He didn’t really understand it much.  
  
Wordlessly, Alma looked down into the well. He caught the faint glint of reflected light on the water’s surface, but it was a bit too dark and far down to see the details of his own reflection. Faded, and somewhat unreadable.  
  
Alma stared down, as his eyes remained locked on that darkness. In some ways, it was like a lulling bit of night sky trapped down into the earth, isolated and alluring.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
The voice startled Alma, as he jumped a bit. He turned, and was surprised to see Kanda had approached him, eyes as sharp as always.  
  
Alma realized that he had no excuse for having not heard Kanda approach, other than having been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had been simply oblivious. But, now that Alma _was_ aware, he felt a slight rush of nervousness pass through him. Just as earlier, Alma once more found it annoyingly difficult to look Kanda directly in the eye; Alma’s attention thus shifted to elsewhere. “Hey,” He said back, though his response sounded a tad absent-minded.  
  
Something about Alma’s reaction clearly aggravated Kanda, as irritation flashed across his face. “You have a problem or something?” He asked.  
  
Kanda’s tone, although steady, sounded close enough to a near snap that it alerted Alma. Alma turned back to Kanda, a little taken aback by the directness. “What-? No!”  
  
“So why are you being so avoidant?” Kanda pressed, clearly not satisfied with Alma’s stammer of an answer.  
  
Alma looked away swiftly. “I’m not being avoidant.”  
  
Kanda’s scowl deepened. “ _Yes,_ you are,” He argued, before nodding his head toward the near-empty basin. “Unless you’re telling me it’s taking you a half hour to fill the damn thing.”  
  
A half hour? Had that much time passed already? Alma felt rather abashed, not having realized that he had been outside for that long. If that were the case, it was no wonder someone had ended up coming outside – who took a half hour to refill a water basin?  
  
Alma made a move to lower the bucket into the well, still somehow intent on placing his focus elsewhere. “I’ll do it now,” Alma spoke, rushing his words a bit as he lowered the bucket down.  
  
“Alma – that’s not the _point_ ,” Kanda stated, frustrated with Alma’s responses. “You keep acting like something is wrong, and I don’t know if it’s because something happened or _what_ – I’m not a fucking mind reader!”  
  
There was a fire to Kanda’s words – hot, and angry. It was rather surprising to Alma, and he finally looked back at Kanda with large, confused blue eyes. Alma hadn’t expected for Kanda to react so fervently, and somehow the reaction only caused Alma’s own feelings to jumble more, as his thoughts twisted together into something incoherent. Because of this, Alma couldn’t respond immediately, and a somewhat awkward pause fell between them.  
  
Still holding the rope, Alma looked down. A sudden wave of guilt seemed to befall him. “Sorry, I…didn’t realize you were that worried…”  
  
Since Alma was looking downward, he didn’t catch the surprise that flickered in Kanda’s eyes. Kanda quickly tried to wash away the expression though, as he stubbornly averted his gaze as well. He tried to respond. “Look, I just don’t want a repeat of…”  
  
Kanda wavered. He seemed hesitant to bring up whatever it was, but he pushed on through regardless. “Of the other night,” Kanda finished. By this point, he glanced back in Alma’s direction. “So if anything weird happened-“  
  
Alma shook his head, quick to have the suggestions discarded. “Nothing weird happened. Not like that,” Alma emphasized, the words quiet as they left him. “I’ve just had…a lot on my mind…”  
  
Kanda eyed Alma. His scowl had lessened a bit, with his expression becoming more pensive as his attention remained on Alma.   He appeared to be waiting, almost as though he were anticipating that Alma might continue to speak. However, Alma remained quiet, and Kanda exhaled.  
  
“Okay, well…if it’s nothing serious…” Kanda started to say, as he internally debated on whether or not he should leave. Before he turned to go, Kanda looked over toward the well. “You actually know how to use it right this time?”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Alma said, as he started to pull the bucket back of, with the slight sloshing of water audible. “I think I remember how you did it-“  
  
Alma leaned over, trying to use the same trick that Kanda had last time with looping the rope. It was a bit harder than he had anticipated though, as he needed to use a fair amount of upper body strength while also leaning over the edge of the well. As Alma did this, he nearly lost his balance, and stumbled a bit.  
  
Quickly, Kanda caught Alma, and steadied him as his hands rested on Alma’s waist. “Don’t lean so far,” Kanda chided, though his voice didn’t hold the harsh edge it usually did. “You’ll fall.”  
  
Alma’s voice seemed to disappear, as he felt Kanda’s grasp around his torso. It was a shockingly gentle touch, firm enough to steady Alma but not rough like what Alma would have expected. Heartbeat increasing a bit, Alma noticed the small bit of warmth he felt where Kanda touched him.  
  
Still holding Alma, Kanda moved one hand to where it was guiding Alma’s. “Here,” Kanda said, as he showed Alma how to loop the rope. “You just toss it like that around the hook, and then it’ll pull up more easily.”  
  
The instruction was given in a low, quiet volume. As Kanda spoke, Alma was keenly aware of just how _close_ Kanda was in that moment, with his breath brushing against Alma’s ear and his other hand still holding Alma by the waist.  
  
Faintly, Alma could feel the warmth of a blush rise to his face, but he nodded at Kanda’s instructions.  
  
They pulled the bucket up after that, with them both placing it on the edge of the well. Kanda still hadn’t let go of Alma though, and Alma wavered on what to say.  
  
Alma turned, angling his face toward Kanda’s slightly. His eyes failed to meet Kanda’s directly, and instead Alma focused on several dark strands of Kanda’s hair that were framing his face. “Yuu…” Alma started to say, his voice a small whisper.  
  
Kanda’s eyes moved over to Alma, his own expression remaining soft. He stared at the prince’s face, slightly obscured given the angle upon with Alma was looking.   “Yeah?” He asked, words coming out in a murmur.  
  
Beating. Alma’s heart was beating again, and fast. His thoughts kept running away, evading him – what had Alma even intended to say? Alma swallowed. He felt nervous. Why did he feel so nervous?  
  
Gingerly, Kanda’s hand – the one that had been over Alma’s – moved. It was only slightly though, and immediately Alma felt himself fearful that Kanda would let go.  
  
Alma’s eyes moved up, somewhat abruptly as he felt this. There was an almost pleading look in his eyes, as bright blue irises locked with dark indigo ones. Air hitching in his throat, Alma found himself unable to tear his gaze away once his eyes had met Kanda’s.  
  
Just like that, he felt his nervousness melt away.  
  
Alma wasn’t certain as to who moved first – Kanda, or himself. Possibly both of them. But, soon any space between them seemed to somehow lessen, and their noses gently brushed against one another. Eyes half-lidded, Alma could feel himself being pulled in, only as if by something magnetic.  
  
He felt so secure, and _safe_ – Alma couldn’t explain it.  
  
In a similar sense, Kanda also appeared to have lost a bit of himself.   He continued to hold Alma, and he did so in such a soft manner that it was almost as though he thought the royal might break.  
  
But then, just as he had leaned in, something seemed to spark in Kanda’s mind, and his eyes immediately became alert – almost as though he was suddenly very much aware of what he was doing, and what was happening.  
  
The next thing Alma knew, Kanda pulled away sharply.  
  
Just like that, Alma could feel any security dissolve, as a sharp coldness filled his core. The sensation was piercing like a knife, and confusion slammed into Alma as he looked at Kanda, questioning and trying to make sense of what had just happened. “Yuu?“  
  
“Sorry,” Kanda mumbled, as he deliberately refused to meet Alma’s gaze. “That’s how you do it though, so you should be good now.”  
  
The statement had clearly been a reference back to using the well, but this only added to Alma’s bewilderment. Alma didn’t understand why Kanda had pulled away, and why now Kanda was barely looking at him. Trying to repress his nerves, Alma spoke up. “Wait, what about-“  
  
“I’m going back inside,” Kanda said, words cutting off Alma completely. There was a slight harshness to his words, and before Alma could try to speak again, Kanda started off, walking back to where the house was.  
  
Alma stared. He felt numb as he watched Kanda leave, and inside it was as though something were cracking. It was like a dam had just splintered, and Alma was suddenly faced with the fact that he felt completely and undeniably _disappointed._ It was that, and something else: something viciously unpleasant, and that left Alma feeling empty and hollow.  
  
Rejection. It was rejection.  
  


* * *

  
  
If Alma had been ambiguous whether he was avoiding Kanda before, there was no doubt he would be doing so now.  
  
Kanda couldn’t blame Alma though, and for what it was worth, Kanda wasn’t exactly eager to be alone with Alma again. The whole incident by the well had been a mistake – a really terrible, potentially _disastrous_ mistake. Kanda had no idea how it had happened, or what have even overcome him then; he just hadn’t been thinking clearly, and it nearly had cost him. Kanda had been fortunate to have pulled back when he did.  
  
Except, it would have been better had it not happened at all. Kanda had tried to avoid looking at Alma when breaking away, but by accident caught a glimpse of the painfully disappointed look in Alma’s eyes: something that made Kanda’s insides twist in guilt.    
  
_‘Damn it,’_ Kanda thought, as he leaned against the wall. He had retreated upstairs, not going into his room, but more lingering alone in the hall, desperate for some kind of relief. Not that he was getting much of it; every time Kanda closed his eyes, he found himself thinking back to that shockingly _intimate_ moment, and how easy it had been to hold Alma close.  
  
Stupid. Kanda was being stupid. Alma was a _royal_ – Kanda had to remember that, and he had no idea when he had even started to give a damn about the troublesome prince. At some point, something somewhere had shifted, and Alma had somehow managed to slip in through a crack in the wall that Kanda had so diligently worked to construct. Alma had gotten inside, and had gotten too close.  
  
Too close. Far too close.  
  
Kanda needed to be careful. He needed to be _cautious_. Alma was still so ignorant, and didn’t know anything about Kanda, or the others for that matter. If Kanda were foolish enough to let Alma in, then that would only put them all at risk; there was no telling how Alma would react once he learned why the exorcists were really out there in the woods, or who they actually were for that matter.  
  
Kanda couldn’t let that happen. He had let too much happen as it was.  
  
Tiredly, Kanda exhaled as he finally decided to return downstairs. He had no idea where Alma would be; hopefully doing something to busy himself, where Kanda wouldn’t run into him again anytime soon.  
  
This hope was immediately squashed as Kanda came down the stairs, just as Alma was making a move to go up.  
  
Immediately, both young men froze as they stared at each other briefly. Then, Alma dashed by Kanda, hurrying up the stairs before anything could be said. There was a sound of a door slamming shut, and Kanda knew Alma was upset.  
  
Shit – Kanda hadn’t meant to cause _that_.  
  
Daisya poked his head around the corner, and looked at Kanda. His eyes then moved up the stairs, where Alma had run off to. “Um, what was up with that?” He asked, apparently having noticed Alma’s behavior.  
  
Kanda looked away. “I don’t know,” He answered stiffly.  
  
Daisya stared, then frowned. “Okay, so what’s with you?”  
  
Kanda looked back at Daisya, scowling. “Me?”  
  
“Yeah. First _he_ acts weird,” Daisya said, pointing a thumb toward where Alma had gone, “Now _you’re_ acting weird. Everyone’s acting weird today, and I’m confused.”  
  
“Tch. I’m not acting weird,” Kanda argued.  
  
“Hey, if you don’t want to talk about whatever happened between you two-“  
  
“ _What_?” Kanda snapped, as he whipped his face in Daisya’s direction, glaring. “ _Nothing_ happened!”  
  
Daisya remained completely unfazed by Kanda’s heated reaction, and crossed his arms. He eyed Kanda with a raised eyebrow. “Uh huh. _Nothing_ happened, which is why you’re _totally_ getting defensive,” He stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Something’s obviously getting to you.”  
  
Kanda glared. As annoying as Daisya could be, he was _obnoxiously_ observant at times – something Kanda was loath to be dealing with at the moment. Huffing, Kanda tore his eyes from Daisya, and focused on the stairs. “I said it’s nothing,” He spoke lowly, not caring if Daisya actually believed him or not. At this point, Kanda just wanted the other exorcist to back off.  
  
Daisya seemed to get the hint. “Alright, alright. So it was nothing,” He agreed, although it was clear he didn’t believe such for a second. “You two are something else…”  
  
Irritation raked at Kanda’s spine, but he clenched his jaw and bit down his words. He didn’t want to spurn Daisya on further, and risk getting interrogated anymore than what had already happened.  
  
Suddenly, Daisya’s attention seemed to shift elsewhere. He stilled, as concentration filled his eyes, and a small frown was on his face. Eyes a bit narrowed, he looked toward one of the windows.  
  
Kanda’s brow knotted. “What is it?”  
  
Daisya paused, then answered warily. “Someone just bypassed the new seal marks I placed,” He spoke, before turning to Kanda. “Tiedoll and Marie maybe?”  
  
“They wouldn’t be back this quickly…” Kanda murmured, thinking that if anything dealing with an akuma would have tied them up longer.  
  
Unless something else had happened.  
  
“One of us should scope out the area,” Daisya suggested. “Just to be safe.”  
  
Kanda was in agreement, and nodded. “Yeah,” He said, before pausing. “I’ll stay here.”  
  
There was an oddly knowing look in Daisya’s eyes, and he smirked. “Thought you’d say that.”  
  
Kanda felt a small tinge of annoyance. There was some kind of implication in the comment, but frankly Kanda was too tired to care much at that point.  
  
Daisya left immediately after that, and Kanda remained inside. Once alone, Kanda’s eyes wandered over to the staircase that led up to the rooms, and his mind returned to wondering how Alma was doing. The option of checking on Alma came to mind, but Kanda quickly discarded the notion.  
  
Alma would be fine. He would get over what had happened.  
  
_‘It was nothing anyways,’_ Kanda tried to tell himself, as he attempted to ease the guilt that continued to fester. _‘It’s better to leave it alone.’_  
  
The thoughts were ones that Kanda continuously repeated to himself, yet at the same time he found it a challenge to believe.  
  
Quickly, Kanda tried to push the intrusive thoughts elsewhere as he glanced out the window. He needed to re-focus, and pay attention if there _were_ any trespassers nearby. Unless it were only Tiedoll and Marie – but even that possibility posed potential problems.  
  
Damn it, Kanda hoped the Arcaian guards hadn’t been around still. That would have been a mess.  
  
A short bit of time passed, but Kanda didn’t leave the house. He would periodically check one of the two entrances, and the windows. It probably would have seemed excessive to some, but Kanda knew it was better to be safe than sorry considering the mirror incident that had taken place recently. He didn’t want any surprises, and considering Alma was upstairs, Kanda didn’t want to risk anything dangerous happening.  
  
_‘Daisya must still be looking around,’_ Kanda thought, when he noticed it seemed to be taking the other exorcist a tad longer to scope the area than normal. Nerves pinched, Kanda felt himself grow tense; he wondered if Daisya had run into who it might have been, if anyone at all.  
  
From near the back entrance of the house, Kanda could hear the door open. Immediately, his guard raised and he took a hold of his sword. _‘It better be Daisya…’_ He thought, body tense and ready to swing at anyone he didn’t recognize.  
  
Kanda, swift rounded the corner, and entered into the kitchen-  
  
“It’s just us, Kanda.”  
  
Kanda released a breath, and relaxed his grip on Mugen. In the kitchen was Tiedoll, and outside Kanda caught a glimpse of Marie speaking with Daisya.  
  
Tiedoll eyed Kanda’s weapon, and looked at the exorcist with a wary gaze. “I see you’re prepared for anything,” Tiedoll noted, though his tone lacked the warm humor it so often held. “Daisya told us something happened a few night ago after we left.”  
  
The memory flashed unpleasantly in Kanda’s mind, and unwillingly Kanda recalled the way Alma had been when found – nearly drowned, and scared to death.  “Yeah…” He mumbled, though Kanda refrained from jumping into details.  
  
“We’ll have a lot to fill each other in on, it seems…” Tiedoll spoke, expression pensive.  
  
This caused Kanda to look at Tiedoll questioningly, and his brow furrowed. “What happened?” He asked. “You got back more quickly than normal, even for just a check-in visit. What happened with the akuma?”  
  
Tiedoll’s eyes were serious, as he made eye contact with Kanda. “We didn’t make it to the village,” Tiedoll answered lowly.  
  
There was a pause, and Kanda felt his blood chill before anymore words were spoken. Somehow, even without Tiedoll giving any further detail, Kanda already knew the situation was grave – and that something unsettling had transpired. Tiedoll wasn’t often easily deterred from leaving a job unfinished when it came to akuma, and the tone in which Tiedoll spoke was far too severe for Kanda to be at ease.  
  
Kanda took a small breath, but when he spoke, the words came out quieter than normal. “What happened?”  
  
Tiedoll closed his eyes, and sighed as he adjusted his glasses. “There were Arcaian guards…just an hour or so away from the village,” Tiedoll answered.  
  
“Did they see you?” Kanda asked, unable to contain himself before Tiedoll could keep speaking. “If they saw-“  
  
“ _Kanda_ ,” Tiedoll spoke, quieting the other exorcist.  
  
Kanda promptly closed his mouth, as he realized that he was getting ahead of himself.  
  
Once Tiedoll saw Kanda was pulling back, the man continued, though he kept his voice calm. “They didn’t see us, Kanda,” He reassured. “However…”  
  
Kanda looked at Tiedoll expectantly. “Tiedoll…?”  
  
Tiedoll wavered for a small, yet painstakingly long second. He met Kanda’s gaze. “They know we’re in the woods,” He said. “And they’re looking for us.”  
  
At that moment, everything stopped for Kanda. The chill he had felt early immediately transitioned into ice, and it was so cold as it coursed throughout him that it nearly froze him from within. Somewhere, amidst the darkness that swirled within his mind, Kanda thought of Alma.  
  
_‘No…’_  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma didn’t know how much time passed, but he knew that he knew that he had stayed in his room for a while.  
  
It was childish. Alma knew it was – hiding away in his room was such a silly thing to do, as though it would somehow make all of his problems magically disappear. Lately, it seemed that it was all Alma would do though: run away, hide, avoid. He had often been that way at the castle, and it seemed that the trend followed Alma even when in a new environment.  
  
Alma had no idea what to do about Kanda, though.  
  
Alma’s insides knotted up, as what felt like a wave of nausea washed over him. He honestly felt so _stupid_ – what had even happened back at the well? For a few moments, things had been fine. Things had been _nice_. It had been nice being with Kanda, and being close to him, and Alma had felt…  
  
A stab of yearning pierced Alma, pained and sickening. He hadn’t realized how much he cared to be around Kanda before that moment, and Kanda pulling back so abruptly had been a blow to any sense of security that Alma had been starting to feel. Alma was just confused, and he didn’t _understand_ – he didn’t understand why had Kanda pulled back, and why it had been so _crushing_.    
  
As Alma pondered this, he felt as though a weight were pressing down on his chest uncomfortably.  
  
Alma took a breath, as he sat back on the bed. He ran a hand over the side of his face. _‘I shouldn’t be this upset….it wasn’t like Yuu really liked me much in the first place…’_ Alma tried to tell himself.  
  
It was true: Kanda hadn’t even wanted anything to do with Alma to begin with. Alma had been under the impression that this might have shifted, but perhaps Alma had been wrong. Perhaps he had misread things entirely. Alma had done that so many times before.  
  
Somehow, this thought made Alma feel worse.  
_  
_ Alma sat more upright. Damn it, why couldn’t he just _move on_? That was what Kanda was probably doing, and Alma would have to get over the awkwardness of seeing Kanda again soon. Alma didn’t want to be the one to drag it out either. However, the prince was struggling to forget that moment, and the way Kanda had so gently held him close.  
  
_‘It didn’t feel like it was nothing…’_ Alma thought.  
  
Maybe Alma just needed to talk to Kanda. There was some disconnect somewhere, and Alma could feel it grating on him; at this rate, Alma had no idea _when_ he would get beyond whatever had happened without some kind of clarification. Surely Kanda could give Alma _that_ much.  
  
Forcing himself up, Alma left his room. He glanced around, not sure if Kanda would have been upstairs. But, Alma saw the second floor hall was deserted, and not a sound could be heard from any of the rooms. He then went downstairs, looking to see if he could find Kanda.  
  
It was just before Alma rounded the corner that led into the kitchen that he hear hushed, tense voices.  
  
“I don’t know how they found out we’ve been in the woods-“  
  
“So what the fuck are we supposed to do? Wait until they come to haul us back to Arcaia?”  
  
Kanda. That was Kanda speaking, Alma realized – and Tiedoll, from what it sounded like. _‘Tiedoll and Marie came back already?’_ Alma thought.  
  
“They don’t know where we are exactly,” Marie’s voice, as calm as ever, came. “If anything that will give us some time.”  
  
Daisya’s voice, a low mumble, came next. “I wouldn’t bet on it…”  
  
_‘What?’_ Alma wondered, feeling completely lost as to what it was the others were talking about. Even without going into the other room, Alma could feel the tense atmosphere, and it set him on edge. Who were the other exorcists talking about? Why were they talking about Arcaia? Aside from Daisya, Alma wondered if that was maybe where they were from, but something wasn’t making sense entirely.  
  
“Someone needs to talk to Alma-“ Tiedoll was beginning to say, before Kanda snapped.  
  
“And tell him _what_?” Kanda asked, words growing heated. “That’s only going to make things more complicated!”  
  
“Things already _are_ complicated-“  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
Everyone’s voices seemed to stop. Alma had walked in, unable to refrain from doing so as soon as he had heard his _name_ mentioned – if they were talking about something involving him, he should have been in the conversation too, right? However, considering the serious expressions everyone wore, Alma wondered if he should have waited to approach Tiedoll or someone else later. Maybe Alma _had_ interrupted something that he shouldn’t have.  
  
There was remaining tension in the room, and the other exorcists all appeared hesitant on how to answer. This only added to Alma’s anxiousness. “Did something happen?” Alma pressed as unease trickled into his voice, as he was becoming desperate to at least know _something_.  
  
As Alma glanced around, his attention happened to land on Kanda. Before he could think to avoid it, Alma made eye contact.  
  
Kanda swiftly turned away, before he started to walk off.  
  
Tiedoll looked in Kanda’s direction. “Kanda-“  
  
“I don’t care what you tell him,” Kanda snapped, as his eyes flashed darkly. “It doesn’t make a difference to me.”  
  
Despite the claim to indifference, the tone was scathing. Alma could practically feel the fire of Kanda’s temperament scorch his skin, and like earlier could do little else than watch as Kanda stalked off outside.  
  
Daisya’s eyes flickered over from where Kanda had left to Alma, then without saying anything Daisya followed where Kanda had gone off to.  
  
With Daisya and Kanda now absent, Alma was left with only Tiedoll and Marie. The unease remained present though, and Alma found himself becoming more disquieted with each passing second. Very tentatively, Alma finally managed to speak, as he rubbed an arm anxiously. “What…what was Yuu talking about?”  
  
Tiedoll looked at Alma, not having missed the informal way that Alma referred to Kanda. He didn’t comment on the detail though, and focused on the larger question at hand. “Before we made it to the village, we saw Arcaian guards scouting the area. Kanda and Daisya had seen some previously in the village, but this time they were deeper into the woods near the route we were on.”  
  
Alma was surprised. “But I thought we weren’t across the border to Arcaia.”  
  
“We aren’t, but we’re close enough that I’m sure they’ve been able to get away with extra patrolling. Especially given the influence of your stepfather.”  
  
Tiedoll’s explanation was logical, and yet it felt like a million needles where piercing Alma – sharp, and stunning. He had no idea that any guards from Arcaia had actually been patrolling in such a way; he had never heard his mother or his stepfather discuss it, and it came as a surprise to Alma. Why would the guards have needed to do such a thing? What were they patrolling for _now_?  
  
Marie spoke up. “We don’t believe it’s safe here anymore. For anyone,” He said evenly. “At this rate, we’ll have to leave.”  
  
“What? I don’t understand – this is your home, isn’t it? Why would you have to leave?” Alma asked, completely taken aback by the suggestion. He looked between Tiedoll and Marie, as he struggled to comprehend the situation. Then, a horrible, fearful notion struck Alma, as guilt began to brim in his eyes. “It’s…it’s not because of me is it?”  
  
“It’s not you they’re looking for,” Tiedoll said, before sighing. There was a tired look in his eyes, and for a moment he seemed older to Alma – much older, as though he had been through some kind of strenuous, extensive experience.  “They’re looking for us.”  
  
Noticing the weariness in Tiedoll’s voice, Marie briefly took over, as he turned his face more in Alma’s direction. “You heard about what happened two years ago. About the Arcaian exorcist unit.”  
  
Alma looked at Marie uncertainly, but nodded. “Yeah…you mean about that exorcist who killed one of the others in the unit, right?” Alma questioned, still not quite following where Marie and Tiedoll were taking this. He then added quietly, “Sheril…always said it was an example of why exorcists couldn’t be trusted…”  
  
Tiedoll frowned pensively. “I’m sure he did…” He murmured in a quiet voice.  
  
Marie also wore a somber expression, though he remained quiet for a moment. “Alma, what you heard…it wasn’t true. We know because we were there when it happened.”  
  
It was as though the air were knocked from Alma, as complete shock filled his eyes. Tiedoll and Marie were there in Arcaia two years ago? “But…what were you…?”  
  
Tiedoll answered, even before Alma could finish. “I was the general in that unit.”  
  
Alma’s eyes widened. “You mean…you were there with the mad exorcist?” Alma asked, completely shocked by this information. He had known little about the Arcaian unit, but he hadn’t expected the general to be anything like Tiedoll. From what Alma had known, the unit had become treacherous, with the general having aided the mad exorcist in escaping. “But, they said you helped that one exorcist escape even after he killed someone!”  
  
“The exorcist you’re talking about didn’t kill anyone, Alma,” Tiedoll expressed, voice grave. “We know this because the exorcist that was supposedly ‘killed’ was Marie.”  
  
_‘What…?’_ Alma thought, too stunned to speak in that moment.  
  
“Tiedoll’s telling the truth,” Marie spoke, voice low. “Something attacked me, and it nearly did kill me – but it wasn’t the exorcist. It only looked like him.”  
  
“You mean like…a doppelganger?”  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “We still don’t know if it was an akuma, or something else. But whatever it was, it took on his appearance, and Marie was taken to be dead. I found out not long after that his body had only been placed elsewhere though, while the blame fell on the real exorcist.”  
  
As Alma listened, he could feel himself grow nauseous. All that time two years ago, the chaos had been widespread. Tricia had needed to attend an emergency council meeting, and even though Klaud and Suman would not discuss it, it was clear that the incident had caused a substantial amount of discord among everyone. The news that an exorcist had lost such control had been a damaging blow to the relationship between royals and exorcists, though Alma’s understanding at the time had been limited.  
  
But now…Alma was learning that it had been a _lie_?  
  
Alma shook his head, as he struggled to process this information. Once again, his mind returned to Sheril, and all the times he had used this example as evidence for his argument against trusting the exorcists. It was sickening, and Alma found himself wondering how deeply the lies had run all of these years.  
  
_‘Why, though?’_ Alma wanted to ask. _‘Why would Sheril…?’_  
  
Tiedoll watched, as Alma strained to take in the news. “We know it’s a lot, but we couldn’t risk telling you right away,” He explained. “This house was one we found abandoned, and took refuge in while hiding.”  
  
Mutely, Alma tried to nod – but even his ability to move was failing him. He tried to swallow. “Who…who was the exorcist?”  
  
Tiedoll took a breath, and answered.  
  
“It was Kanda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE IT ISSSSSSS.
> 
> I can’t tell anyone how happy I am to get this chapter posted because it was killing me to keep my mouth shut about it. >.< It essentially sets up for the rest of the fic (and the mess to come), what with Alma and Kanda’s relationship developing and Alma finally learning that the whole incident in Arcaia was a setup (which, more of an in depth explanation of things is on the way next chapter - so some of the questions and confusion left with this chapter should be resolved then).
> 
> But yeah. In general, I’m fairly satisfied with this chapter I guess? I did struggle a bit with Kanda and Alma, and how they were developing, and it is a challenge considering I’m working in a timeframe with this AU. It was a pretty emotional moment to write by the well, and...of course Kanda went and screwed it up. 8D (Though, to be fair, Kanda is dealing with his own doubts, though he’ll never admit it; on a level, I think there is a status issue here, with Kanda having been on the lowest end of the social chain before being an exorcist, and then being branded a criminal. It’s hard to think you’re good enough for royalty in that situation >.<)
> 
> I’m not sure how predictable the reveal was - there was a lot of set up toward it, so hopefully at the very least it was still enjoyable. XD (On a side note, there was a hint to Marie being the dead exorcist a few chapters back. >.> Though it probably seemed like a weird line at the time aaaa)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. <3 Next one will be coming in the next week or so hopefully!


	21. Twisted Heart, Suffering Heart

_“It was Kanda.”_  
  
Alma stared. For the last few moments, Alma had already been struggling to take in the news that had been presented to him, and the reality that Tiedoll had unveiled. Tiedoll was from the Arcaian unit – he had been the general, and Marie had been a part of that unit. Kanda had been a part of it.  
  
Kanda had been the exorcist who had supposedly killed someone – but that someone had been Marie, and Marie was alive.  
  
Thoughts reeling, Alma tried to focus. He tried to, but couldn’t, as his mind kept replaying the last few words in his head over, and over, to a compulsive degree. “W-what…?” Alma asked, though his voice was hardly audible. But he had to have been mistaken – he had to have heard incorrectly. Kanda wasn’t the mad exorcist. He wasn’t-  
  
Tiedoll looked at Alma, eyes solemn. A hint of sympathy could be faintly seen within though, as he saw the shock that was quickly overtaking Alma. “Kanda….he was the one who was pinned for treason.”  
  
Kanda. Kanda was the mad exorcist, but he wasn’t actually mad, and he hadn’t actually killed anyone. But he had been blamed? Alma was becoming overwhelmed, as each bit of information piled upon one another, gradually smothering and suffocating Alma.  
  
“Yuu…he was the exorcist everyone was talking about?” Alma asked, more so to process the words aloud than anything else. As he questioned this, his mind thought back to his last few days in Kanda’s presence. Kanda who had given Alma lavender. Kanda who had saved Alma from the mirror. Kanda who had let Alma sleep in his bed, and who had held him for a fleeting moment, so close and _carefully_ …  
  
Tiedoll nodded gravely. “Yes, but as you can see Marie is here and very much alive,” He spoke, before adding softly, “Kanda never killed anyone.”  
  
Alma’s eyes flashed, as he looked at Tiedoll with desperate confusion as he broke. “But I don’t _understand_! Why can’t you tell anyone what happened? I-If it isn’t true, and Marie is here, then-“  
  
“It’s not that simple,” Marie spoke, voice slightly strained.  
  
“Marie is right,” Tiedoll added. “I didn’t even learn Marie was alive until well after Kanda had been taken in, and written off as a traitor.”  
  
When Tiedoll saw the look of confusion that appeared on Alma’s face, he continued. “Marie was…being kept locked up. We’re still not sure what entirely for, but for some reason he had been kept alive.”  
  
Marie’s expression hardened as Tiedoll explained this, with his mouth forming into a tight line. “Some reason…” Marie murmured quietly. “I honestly thought I was dead for a while. Whatever attacked me just barely left me alive – enough that I could have been written off as dead had anyone else seen me.”  
  
“Marie, you…you were being kept alive? By _who_?” Alma questioned, as a cold, chilling sensation befell his whole body. Hearing all this was getting to be too much – far too much, but Alma couldn’t walk away from the conversation now. Not when he was learning that all he had been told about the incident in Arcaia had been a _lie_.  
  
“We’re not certain. We only know that someone was orchestrating this – it was far too complex not to be planned,” Tiedoll answered. He exhaled. “We know it was likely a noble or a royal – someone high enough in ranks to pull those kinds of strings.”  
  
As Tiedoll spoke, Alma recalled that time two years ago, and he remembered that Sheril had been in Arcaia then. He had been visiting, though the trip had been for a while – longer than a normal one. While pondering this, Alma also couldn’t help but reflect on the plot Sheril had tried to implement regarding Alma’s own life being taken, and inside Alma felt his stomach drop.  
  
As naïve as Alma might have been, even he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the unsettling connection.  
  
Chest trembling, Alma had to force himself to speak. “Do…do you think it was Sheril…?” Alma asked, voice hesitant. He had to pull and tug to get the words out, as they left Alma feeling sick and horrified. _‘All those years…’_ Alma thought, as a tendril of ice seemed to coil around his heart. _‘All those years with him, and he might have been…’_  
  
Neither Tiedoll nor Marie spoke at first.   After several seconds had passed, they both nodded. “It’s likely he played a part. Sheril was quite vocal about condemning Kanda once the events had unfolded,” Tiedoll spoke. “The Kamelot family has always held a large amount of power in Arcaia right beneath the royal family – the Campbells. I suspect in some way they were involved.”  
  
Alma pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, and he took a shaky breath. This…this was _disturbing_. There was no other way to describe it, and Alma felt as though something cold and slimy was crawling up his spine. Everything Tiedoll and Marie were say – the incident being staged, Marie almost being killed then contained, and then Kanda _…_  
  
“It was by luck Tiedoll found me,” Marie was saying, as his voice gently pulled Alma from the tumultuous thoughts that were spinning in his head. “Once he did, it was clear that there was no chance of convincing the nobles to release Kanda. There was too much of an intent, and no way to know what lengths the ones responsible would go to in order to keep us quiet.”  
  
Alma turned his focus to Tiedoll. “And that’s when…?”  
  
“When we helped Kanda escape,” Tiedoll confirmed. “But by then he had already been branded a killer, and would need to go into hiding. All of us needed to.”  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. His chest quivered, as he took in the weight of this information. It was difficult to swallow, and Alma’s way of understanding things felt as though it were in the midst of shattering. It was nearly unbelievable, and yet given what all Alma had recently experience, made a horrific, twisted sort of sense – a kind that left Alma feeling sick and afraid.  
  
_‘Yuu…Yuu was…’_ Alma started to think, but he couldn’t even form the thought properly. But suddenly, everything – the distrust, the animosity toward royals, the _anger_ – everything about the way Kanda had acted from the beginning made sense. _‘Yuu…’_  
  
The silence in the room felt as though it were weighing down on the occupants. Gently, Marie attempted to break it, as he noticed how quiet Alma was being in particular, with the shock clearly taking a toll on the prince. “Please…you have to know we aren’t lying. But we had to tell you now since we’ll have to leave.”  
  
Alma looked up at them, with uncertainty in his eyes.  
  
“We don’t expect you to come with us, but considering your own situation it was time you learned the truth,” Tiedoll clarified.  
  
Alma looked surprised, then found himself remembering one detail, as he tried to speak. “What about Daisya?” Alma asked, as he further attempted to piece things together. “You didn’t say if he was in the unit originally…”  
  
“No, Daisya wasn’t,” Tiedoll responded. “We actually crossed paths with him by chance several months after we went into hiding. He ended up staying with us for his own reasons, and was also avoiding anyone from the council.”  
  
Quietly, Alma took this added information in. His eyes, somewhat blankly had found their way down to the floorboards, as he once more reflected on the current issue at hand.  
  
Leaving. They would be leaving. Tiedoll. Marie. Daisya.  
  
Kanda.  
  
Somewhere, deep down, Alma could feel something break inside.  
  
“We’ll need to take at least the rest of today to figure out what direction we’re moving it,” Tiedoll said, when he saw Alma’s lack of responsiveness. “But after that we won’t be able to stay. And neither will you.”  
  
This comment struck a chord within Alma, and he looked up abruptly. A decision. Alma would have to make a decision about what he was going to have to do. About where he would go. The world suddenly seemed vast, and dark, and it was painfully overwhelming.  
  
“Take some time,” Tiedoll advised. “You are welcome to come with us, but it’s not a life that you can exactly turn back from.”  
  
Alma remained wordless, as he was unable to even manage a nod. An option. They were giving Alma one option, but was that the best one? To go off with a group of rogues, and live a life of hiding and secrecy? Essentially, Alma had been doing such already by staying with them in the house, and Alma wasn’t sure what else there was for him to do. Go back to the castle? Go somewhere else?  
  
_‘But I couldn’t have gone back anyways…’_ Alma thought, as he briefly reflected on the whimsical notion. The same notion that had nearly gotten him killed. The more time had passed, the more unrealistic that possibility had become, and even now, returning to the castle felt like nothing more than a childish fantasy never to be fulfilled.  
  
At the same time, Alma didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to go off somewhere by himself, with nothing familiar and no one to talk to. He didn’t want to go without lavender, and without those small moments of comfort and hearing about gardening and jarring herbs. It was weak, and probably cowardly, but Alma didn’t know if he could do it. Despite Tiedoll’s warning, the prospect of going with them was tempting. However, there was a cold, vicious finality to such a decision – one that made Alma hesitant, and wary.  
  
If Alma had wanted to hold onto any hopes of ever returning back to see his mother. If he had ever wanted to hold onto any hopes of seeing Klaud, or Suman…  
  
Alma didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do.  


* * *

  
  
“How do you think he reacted?”  
  
Kanda looked over at Daisya, then turned away. “Why should I care?” Kanda grumbled. “What matters is that regardless of how he reacts that he keeps his mouth shut.”  
  
Daisya hummed lowly, as he leaned back against the tree. He had followed Kanda outside, and a bit away where the trees had started to grow denser; it had been no trouble catching up to Kanda though, and surprisingly Kanda hadn’t lashed out at Daisya for following.  
  
Brown eyes resting on Kanda, Daisya watched as the other exorcist also leaned against another tree, arms crossed and expression stony. Daisya immediately felt an urge to call Kanda out on his bluff – he was clearly bothered by something.  
  
“Yeah, I guess,” Daisya responded casually, as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “In a messed up way, it helps that he’s on the run too. Not really too many people for him to out us to.”  
  
Kanda sneered quietly. “If he even believes whatever Tiedoll and Marie say…”  
  
Daisya shrugged. “He might. Maybe he’ll want to come with us.”  
  
The comment, although conversational, instantly earned a hostile glare from Kanda. His eyes looked as though they were as sharp as the weapon Kanda wielded, and after a moment he refocused his attention forward. “He’d be really damn stupid to choose this life.”  
  
A dry snort of laughter escaped Daisya. “Yeah, it’s kind of annoying. Running around and hiding and shit,” He commented. “I can’t talk though. I did it to myself when I avoided joining the Ying unit. I still remember the day they realized there were possible accommodators on my island.”  
  
Kanda didn’t say anything aloud in response. Daisya had talked about this before – but only a few times. He had already wanted to leave the Aegaean Islands, but what had spurned it was when representatives from Ying had come to try to track down exorcists. With that, Daisya had never gone into detail, but from what Kanda had gathered, there had been…questionable methods in tracking accommodators.  
  
Sometimes, Kanda wondered if Daisya had been as willing to leave as he made it out to be.  
  
“It’s so messed up…”  
  
The words were spoken softly – a stark contrast to the tone that Daisya normally used. Because of this, Kanda’s eyes moved over to Daisya, where he could see the other exorcist. Somewhat surprised, Kanda saw that Daisya’s expression was not the typical, carefree one that he normally wore; instead, there was an oddly distant look in his eyes, and a somewhat bitter, half-smile on his face.  
  
“You know what I mean?” Daisya continued, voice still soft. “It’s like the minute you become an accommodator, you’re not even a real person anymore. The royals just assume you’re theirs.”  
  
Kanda was silent, and his expression was solemn. Eyes cold, he felt his heart clench as though it were being gripped by a stone fist. Kanda knew perfectly well what Daisya meant though – except, Kanda had never been a person. Even prior to being discovered to be compatible with Mugen, Kanda had never been viewed as anyone significant. He had only been a castle servant, and servants were property too. At least, in Arcaia they were.  
  
Before Kanda had met Tiedoll when he was a child, no one had even asked Kanda what his name was. He just was, and “Yuu” was nothing more than a shadow who liked to garden.  
  
Except Alma. Alma had asked about Kanda’s name.  
  
_Alma looked at Kanda, as curiosity brimmed in his large, bright blue eyes. “That’s a nice name….why don’t you go by it?”  
  
A sharp look, scalding and irritable, appeared on Kanda’s face as he glared at the prince.  
  
Alma quickly backtracked, realizing that he had made an error by asking more questions. “Sorry! I just always thought Kanda was your first name,” Alma apologized, before offering a meek, gentle smile. “I like it though.”  
  
_ The memory somehow felt like salt being pressed into an open wound, and Kanda immediately tried to shove it away.  
  
Daisya moved, and spoke again. “We better get back. Tiedoll and Marie will want to figure out what we’re doing so we can move quickly.”  
  
Kanda nodded. “I’ll be there in a bit.”  
  
Daisya spared one last glance in Kanda’s direction, but said nothing as he left the area.  
  
Kanda didn’t move, and continued to lean back against the tree. The bark, rough and cool from the autumn chill, pricked against his back and through the fabric of his shirt. However, Kanda hardly paid it any mind; his own thoughts were too fogged, and his head too clouded.  
  
Again. They’d have to leave again, and _god_ , Kanda was frustrated.  
  
He should have known though. He should have known where they had taken refuge would be temporary. It was the nature of the life they had fallen into – or at least, the life that _Kanda_ had fallen into. It felt that way, considering that Kanda was the one who had initially been marked a traitor by the nobles. Marie of course would have still have to been careful had he escaped, but it wasn’t as though he couldn’t have tried to live a quiet life elsewhere.  
  
And Tiedoll…Tiedoll hadn’t had needed to give up anything. He could have stayed, and survived just fine.  
  
But…  
  
_…He was desperate. Desperate, and hopeless, like some strange dualistic sensation that he couldn’t escape. It was maddening, and frustrating, and Kanda was_ angry _.  
  
And afraid. He didn’t want to admit it, but Kanda was afraid. He was afraid of what they would do to him.  
  
Except he knew – Kanda already knew his fate, because the punishment for treachery was always the same.  
  
Shakily, Kanda exhaled. It was cold in the cell that he had been locked away in, and it felt as though a sheet of ice were encompassing his body. Ice and glass, sharp and cutting. Entrapping. A shudder threatened to pass through Kanda, and only the warmth of his adrenaline constantly pumping through his veins was all the exorcist had to keep warm.  
  
Faintly, Kanda could hear the sound of his own heartbeat. Fast. Terrified.  
  
No one had believed him. Kanda hadn’t even known what it was he was taken in for at first. He hadn’t had any assignments lately, and had been _ gardening _of all things – nothing more than a small past time, and something he did out of habit. That, and also because it was one of the few things he found refuge in. Yet the guards had come, and taken him in, accusing him of treason, and handling him like some_ criminal. _  
  
Then, they told him he had killed Marie.  
  
Kanda hadn’t though – he hadn’t done it, and had tried to argue this, even through the shock and horror of hearing such an accusation. But there had been witnesses, and they said that they had seen Kanda leaving the body, injured and bloody, and likely never to awaken.  
  
Kanda had continued to argue, but no one had believed him. His word was no good against the word of nobles. Tiedoll had even tried to speak for Kanda, but his word had not been enough either.  
  
How long? How long would he be in that cell before the royals saw through to his end? Already, several of them had come by to remind Kanda of what a _ failure _he was, and what a destroyer he had become. Vicious. Cruel. The nobles were unrelenting in the way they smothered the lower classes – and the exorcists.  
  
There was the sound of a door opening down the hall, and Kanda instantly felt every muscle in his body tense up. His cell was completely isolated, so any guards stationed were farther off near the entrance of the hall that led down to where Kanda was. Periodically, someone would come to check on him, but already Kanda had been caught off guard, and his defenses instinctively raised, while Kanda questioned who it was coming into the cells.  
  
Road Kamelot in particular had taken an unsettling fancy to tormenting Kanda, and a part of him wondered if it might have been her.  
  
There were rushed footsteps, and Kanda’s eyes moved to the barred door, where he could see through.  
  
It was Tiedoll.  
  
Eyes widening, Kanda ran to the barred door. His hands clasped at the icy iron. “Tiedoll-“  
  
Tiedoll was moving quickly, and Kanda could hear the clanging of keys. “Hold on, I’m getting you out,” He spoke, voice hushed and low. There was a somewhat frantic energy to the way Tiedoll was moving, as though he were working within a time limit.  
  
Kanda stared, startled. He took a breath, as he tried to fathom what was going on. “Tiedoll, they – they keep saying I _ killed _Marie-“ Kanda tried to manage, and unexpectedly his voice threatened to crack at the end as everything started to crash down onto him. “I swear I didn’t!”  
  
“I know,” Tiedoll whispered, before he finally found the correct key to open the door. “I found Marie. He’s still alive, but he’s barely pulling through, and we have to move fast.”  
  
Shock filled Kanda, as the words slammed into him. “What?” He barely made out, questioning if he had heard correctly.  
  
Tiedoll pulled the door open. “This whole thing was planned, but we can’t talk here – the guards will be back any minute,” Tiedoll explained, before rushing Kanda along. “Hurry!”  
  
The command was all Kanda needed to hear to snap into motion, as the desperation to live burned through his veins. The yearning to survive. Like a fire, it burned throughout Kanda, spurning him to act on an almost animalistic impulse.  
  
Before anyone could catch them, Kanda and Tiedoll ran.  
  
_ And they had always run after that.  
  
Kanda resented it. He resented having to hide, and the fact that no matter what he did, the royals always seemed to be taking something. His dignity. His freedom. They were greedy, and wanted everything – so much, that the royals never seemed to care the cost of acquiring whatever it was they wished.  
  
Except Alma. Alma wasn’t like that.  
  
_‘Don’t fucking_ think _about him,’_ Kanda thought, wanting to snap at himself for allowing his thoughts to yet again return to Alma. But it was far easier said than done, and begrudgingly Kanda found his focus stubbornly remained on the prince.  
  
God, Kanda had wanted to hate Alma. Kanda had wanted to hate Alma the moment he had heard that Alma was staying with them, because Alma had been a royal, and Alma was Sheril’s stepson. Surely, it had all been an act, and Alma would turn out to be the same conniving, manipulative monster that every other royal Kanda had ever interacted with had turned out to be.  
  
But, Alma hadn’t turned out that way. Somehow, he had ended up being so painfully _naïve_ – clearly sheltered, and not knowing the first thing about how to do anything for himself despite making a constant effort to be helpful. It had grated on Kanda, and frustrated him; royals weren’t supposed to be obnoxiously innocent, and they weren’t supposed to be…  
  
Sweet. Endearing. Well-meaning. Kanda had no idea how someone like Alma could have grown up in the presence of a Kamelot, and Kanda certainly had no idea how he could have become so _attached_ …  
  
Attached. Kanda felt attached to Alma.  
  
_‘Damn it,’_ Kanda cursed silently. That was a problem. That was a _mistake_. It didn’t matter how sweet or kind Alma could be – Alma was a royal, and Kanda still didn’t know how Alma would react to learning Kanda was wanted for _treason._  
  
There was an unexpected tug in Kanda’s chest, and he recalled being at the well with Alma earlier. A pang of yearning pierced him, and against his will Kanda pathetically felt a desire to be close to Alma again. _‘Alma…’_  
  
“Yuu?”  
  
Like the thorns of a rose, the voice cut through Kanda’s thoughts and he felt his insides coil. That voice – the one he had just been longing for – now acted as yet again a wretched reminder of one more thing he had lost to the royals.  
  
To the best of his ability, Kanda suppressed these feelings. He pressed them down, and smothered them, while he only displayed an expression of icy indifference. He looked over, and his eyes landed on Alma – who looked hesitant, and wary, akin to the look of a nervous doe a person might happen upon in the woods.  
  
The look alone Kanda gave was enough to make Alma fight a flinch, and he rested a hand against a tree. “I ran into Daisya…he said you were out here…” Alma admitted, as he casted his gaze off to the side uncertainly.  
  
Silently, Kanda cursed at Daisya. Of course Daisya would have run his mouth and told Alma where Kanda was, but Kanda couldn’t deal with that now. Now, he had to deal with Alma.  
  
But, just as Kanda was going to give an excuse to leave, Alma spoke in a quiet voice. “Tiedoll…he and Marie told me about what happened…back in Arcaia…”  
  
Kanda stiffened. He had known that Tiedoll and Marie would tell Alma – it was inevitable, considering the circumstances. However, hearing Alma so quietly state it aloud was unpleasant. It was acidic, and it made Kanda want nothing more than to disappear, and become a meaningless shadow once more. He swallowed those feelings though, and responded gruffly. “So? Don’t see why you needed to come out here.”  
  
Alma’s head shot up, and he looked over at Kanda. It looked as though there were something on the tip of Alma’s tongue, but he wavered, and the words failed to come out.  
  
Not wanting to get cornered, Kanda attempted to leave. “I have to go back-“  
  
There was a swift motion, and the next thing Kanda knew Alma had grabbed his wrist with both hands, stopping Kanda from walking any further. The touch was a desperate grasp, and Kanda could feel a slight tremor in Alma’s grip.  
  
Somewhat caught off guard, Kanda turned. His eyes landing on Alma, he frowned in confusion. “What are you-“  
  
“I want to talk,” Alma forced out, though the words sounded uncomfortable as they left his lips.  
  
There was a beat of a second that passed, and Kanda reacted. “About _what_?” He asked, patience thin. In any other instance Kanda would have torn himself away from anyone who would have tried to prevent him from moving; however, a portion of Kanda’s muscles felt paralyzed, and the arm that Alma had gotten hold of refused to move.  
  
The question demanded was clearly one that had put Alma on the spot, as a wave of self-consciousness filled Alma’s eyes. Then, in a rather abrupt manner, Alma released his hold on Kanda’s wrist. He grabbed at his own left arm, as Alma clung the silvery bracer he had as though for some form of comfort. “Sorry, I…”  
  
Alma’s voice trailed off, and he appeared as though he were attempting to gather what it was he wanted to say. Eventually, his eyes moved off to the side, slightly downward, as he was unable to look at Kanda directly. “It’s just…”  
  
Again. Alma was faltering again, and there was now a small tremor to his words. Because of this, his voice was incredibly soft when he finally pushed the question out.  
  
“Do…do you think I’m like the other royals?” Alma asked, voice quiet. “Is that why you pushed me away earlier…?”  
  
Kanda was floored, and found himself unable to answer. The inquiry was not one that he had expected, and what had even been less anticipated was the painfully delicate way that Alma had asked: soft, and _hurt_. More so than Kanda could have ever foreseen, and it was undeniably hard to ignore.  
  
Because Kanda didn’t respond, Alma very warily chanced a glance in Kanda’s direction. But, the moment their eyes met Alma looked away, gaze oddly misty-eyed.  
  
“I know it’s so selfish…I’ve been worrying about if you like me or not. And you’ve had all these things happen, and it’s…I just didn’t _know_ ,” Alma spoke, as his voice quivered to where it almost sounded as though it may crack. But, Alma took a shaky breath, and abruptly turned his face so he was looking at Kanda directly.  
  
“I just don’t – I don’t want you to think I’d _ever_ believe you would do something like that! I _know_ you wouldn’t!” Alma exclaimed, voice finally breaking entirely.  
  
Shock filled Kanda. He stared, completely unprepared as he watched Alma break down. Tears began to cascade down the prince’s face, and Alma’s shoulders shook as he tried to wipe his face with his hands, eventually giving up because they only continued, and the most he could do was bury his face in his hands as though it may preserve some shred of dignity.  
  
Kanda stared, taking in the sight.   Inside, he felt his heart crack; seeing Alma upset was always unpleasant, but this time in particular really struck something within Kanda. Something deep, and moving to the point that Kanda didn’t think he could simply stand there and watch.  
  
As Alma cried, Kanda walked over a bit more closely so that he was standing in front of Alma. Then, as he caved into a strange, protective instinct, Kanda placed both hands on Alma’s shoulders – gently, and carefully.  
  
Alma froze, stiffening a bit at the physical contact.  
  
Gingerly, Kanda moved his hands down Alma’s arms, and stopping once he got to Alma’s wrists. Kanda then very tentatively moved his grasp as he took a hold of Alma’s hands, pulling them away from Alma’s face.  
  
Kanda’s dark eyes stared, as he met Alma’s – which were perplexed, and pained. The prince’s face was flushed and wet, but the confusion seemed to have caused his tears to momentarily halt.  
  
“You’re so stupid….crying over someone else’s problems…” Kanda murmured, tone soft. “Stop making yourself so upset already…”  
  
Alma remained wordless, as he stared back at Kanda. Once more, he could feel his heartbeat quicken, as Kanda’s eyes bore into his own. The warmth from Kanda’s touch was also notably present – comforting, and soothing. Securing.  
  
Yearning. There was once again a yearning, and a fear – a fear that like before, Kanda might let go. That Kanda might walk away.  
  
Alma didn’t want Kanda to walk away.  
  
With immense caution, Alma shifted his hands, and turned them in Kanda’s grasp so that their hands would more easily interlock. There was a small tremble in Alma’s, as he nervously ran his fingers over Kanda’s, meaning to take hold – but, before Alma could do so, Kanda locked his fingers into Alma’s, steadying the hold.  
  
As Alma did this, he noticed the texture of Kanda’s hands: rough, and calloused. The hands of someone who worked constantly. Nothing like Alma’s, which were soft, and unscathed.  
  
Alma’s eyes lingered on their hands for a moment, as he felt something warm fill his core, and into his chest.  
  
Kanda shifted his position slightly, and Alma turned his face back up so he could look at Kanda. Slowly, Kanda leaned in.  
  
There was only a fraction of time that slipped by before Alma could feel his eyelids fall, and the sensation of Kanda’s lips gently brushing across his own.  
  
The kiss was like nothing Alma had ever experienced. Immensely soft, and gentle, it was a remarkably delicate sensation that sent a warmth coursing throughout his whole body. Alma could feel his heart thudding loudly in his chest – so powerful and thunderous that he was worried that Kanda might even hear it.  
  
Kanda slightly tightened his grasp on Alma’s hands, as he deepened the kiss. It was only a small bit though, as his movements were wary, and cautious of how Alma might react. However, Alma could only feel himself melt into the experience, as his heart longed so deeply to be close to Kanda that it was almost _painful.  
  
_ After a moment, Kanda slowed the kiss, and pulled back a hair before pressing his forehead against Alma’s. In response, Alma could feel his eyes close, as he leaned into Kanda’s body. Kanda only pulled Alma in more closely, as he wrapped his arms around Alma.  
  
They remained wordless, away and hidden. But holding each other quietly, and for a moment both finding solace.  


* * *

  
  
Like an incurable plague, silence had overtaken Tricia.  
  
She hadn’t hardly been able to utter a word – not since Suman had been brought in a second time, and failed to explain Road’s testament of seeing him leave the castle grounds with Alma just prior to the prince’s disappearance. It had been a nauseating, terrible experience; Tricia had always trusted the exorcists. She trusted Klaud, almost as though Klaud were her own sister. And Suman….Tricia had trusted him too. Tricia had trusted him, because Klaud had trust rusted him.  
  
Alma had trusted him. Alma had always talked so excitably about Suman, and Suman’s family. It was such an innocent, endearing quality; Tricia had never had it in her to keep Alma from interacting with the exorcists as a result, despite Sheril’s opposition to it. In many ways, it had given her comfort, too. Tricia was no fool; she knew she had not been present in Alma’s life. Like a crutch, she had leaned on Klaud, and Tricia had found relief in knowing that Alma at least had _someone_ – even if it were not always her.  
  
Looking back now, it was a selfish, distorted notion. And Tricia knew she had only done such because she had been too impacted by her own, sickening grief to allow herself to spend too much time with Alma. To allow herself the pained risk of remembering his father.  
  
It was a terrible error, and one that Tricia knew she could never take back.   She could never take it back, and now her only child might have been-  
  
_‘No,’_ She tried to tell herself. _‘No, he…he isn’t…’_  
  
A shaky breath sent a shiver through Tricia. She was in her chambers, with the instruction to rest by the castle physician. Tricia could do anything but though; her mind was plagued with fear and agony, as she continuously wondered where her son was. Was he hurt? Was he alone? Was he _safe_? These questions tormented Tricia, as she reflected obsessively over where Alma might have been, and how he had a parasitic innocence, too. What if he was attacked by something? Tricia knew from Klaud that Alma’s innocence had never activated before he went missing, and the fact that Alma would have been a walking target was absolutely _horrifying_ for Tricia to think about.  
  
_‘But he has to be alive,’_ A voice wanted to cry out, deep from within Tricia’s core. _‘He_ has _to!’_  
  
He had to be alive. He had to be somewhere. But _where_?  
  
Once more, Tricia’s mind went back to Suman, and she felt her blood chill. Suman hadn’t said anything – he hadn’t said anything about where he and Alma had gone, and why they had gone into the woods. But, why? Why would Suman not tell anyone what had happened to Alma? Could Suman really have had some sort of ill-intention that Tricia was not aware of? Could Suman have actually _hurt_ Alma? _  
  
_ Like brittle marble, Tricia could feel her heart begin to crumble, and her breathing become uneven as distress overtook her. All those times she had tried to vouch for exorcists, because Tricia had believed they would do what they could to be loyal to the royals and the mission of procuring and protecting innocence. All those times Tricia had tried to be lenient where she could, despite the admonishments of Sheril. All those times….  
  
Tricia recalled the late king, and how he had trusted the exorcists. Victor had valued them immensely, and trusted them with his life. And Tricia had wanted to honor that.  
  
Tricia had wanted to honor that, but she had clearly been wrong.   She had been wrong about everything. _‘Alma…’_  
  
The door opened, and Tricia turned. Sheril had come inside, somehow immaculately put together as always. Tricia knew she was shameful in comparison; she was hardly managing to hold herself together in the public eye, let alone when in the privacy of her own chambers. It was almost as though every fiber in Tricia’s body was sand – foundationless, and without support. At the mercy of the elements, and every force outside of her own body. Breakable.   _Weak_. _  
  
_ Sheril took one glance at Tricia, and there was a hint of a frown on his lips, holding what looked to be a twitch of pity. It was not overbearingly obvious, and Tricia had only been able to detect it after having been with Sheril for so many years. The man was reserved in so many ways that to anyone else she knew he would have seemed cold; perhaps he actually _was_ cold. The more time passed, the more it became difficult to tell.  
  
Right now, everything felt cold to Tricia.  
  
“Tricia,” Sheril spoke, voice velvety soft. “You should be resting – you’ve been under so much stress.”  
  
There was a lightly admonishing, honeyed tone that conveyed concern. Usually, Tricia would have found herself comforted by such phrases, however she now struggled to remember what comfort felt like.  
  
Tricia clasped her hands, as she ran her fingers over one another in distressed anxiousness. “I can’t rest. I can’t even _think_ of resting,” Tricia stated, pained and almost agitated. Her expression twisted up a bit, as her refined, graceful features nearly collapsed into agony. “I…I can’t stop thinking about -“  
  
Words shattering into silence, Tricia stopped herself abruptly. Alma. Her son. Her _child_. Her child who may be…  
  
Tricia took a breath, though she was failing to calm herself. Her eyes seemed to burn and haze over, and she looked at Sheril. “I don’t understand – how could Suman have known something and not come forward? How?”  
  
The questions poured out like a tearful waterfall, anguished and confused. Tricia had known she would only be able to hold it in for so long though: the confusion, the heartbreak, the _betrayal_. Tricia felt she was nothing but a fool, and a failure and not having noticed any signs of treachery – but had there had been any? Tricia hadn’t seen any in Suman. She had never seen any signs.  
  
_‘Alma…always trusted Suman…’_ Tricia thought, as she wondered just what it was that had _happened_. Why had Suman gone with Alma into the woods? What had he done to Alma?  
  
As Tricia began to lose her composure, Sheril approached her. Expression calm, he placed his hands on Tricia’s shoulder as he looked down at her with a dark, sympathetic gaze.  
  
“It’s not always easy to understand why the exorcists do what they do…” Sheril quietly murmured, as he brought a hand to the side of Tricia’s face, and caressed it gently. “I was worried about this happening. About one of the exorcists betraying the royals again.”  
  
Tricia looked up, as her pale blue eyes met Sheril’s. “Why, though? Why won’t he tell us what happened to Alma? He couldn’t…have…”  
  
Tricia’s voice again cracked, and Sheril pulled her into an embrace. He stroked the back of her head, as hid cool fingers brushed over her silken hair. “We still don’t know what happened, but we have to be realistic, Tricia…” Sheril spoke, gentle and lulling. Chilling. “Rest assured, Suman won’t get away with having played a part in whatever happened to Alma.”  
  
To this, Tricia was unable to respond, and could only fall to tears as Sheril held her.  


* * *

  
  
Once some time had passed, Sheril had been able to leave Tricia.  The queen had been exhausted, emotionally as well as physically, and it had been easy enough to persuade her to rest.  Persuading and manipulating Tricia was never much of a challenge; she was ideal in her brittle resolve to be a perfect marionette, with strings linked to each limb and whim that Sheril could tug upon  _easily_.  
  
Sheril had to be careful though.  The queen was fragile, but the situation was even more so; each action needed to be calculated immaculately if he wanted to ensure the plan wouldn’t fail.  Too many years, and too much time had been invested already.  And there were still several loose ends that needed to be tied.  
  
Alma was one of them.  Sheril had learned from Road that he was still somehow alive.  It was a nuisance, really, and it didn’t help that he was with the former Arcaian unit of all things.  
  
As Sheril thought of them, there was a quiet, yet potent wave of iciness that poured through his veins.    
  
Exorcists.  Pathetic, self-righteous  _exorcists_ -  
  
Sheril’s thoughts drew to a halt, and the iciness was repressed.  Before he even heard the footsteps, he knew someone was nearby, and like a shadow melting away the bitter venom in his eyes dissolved into a placid calm.  
  
“Bookman,” Sheril greeted as soon as he saw the older man appear.  His tone was even and polite, yet beneath it was an undercurrent of something distasteful and sour.  “Are you looking for something?”  
  
Bookman answered.  “Not here.”  
  
It was a sage reply, and already Sheril knew that it was unlikely that he would be able to gain much more than a cryptic response from Bookman.  
  
“It’s strange.  The situation here vaguely reminds me of what happened in Arcaia two years ago.”  
  
Sheril’s eyes flashed, like two gems upon a serpent’s head.  He was careful to keep the rest of his face neutral, and only arched an eyebrow slightly.  “Does it?”  
  
“Yes,” Bookman said.  “Except this time a royal was involved.  I imagine it’ll be very detrimental to the relationship between royals and exorcists once this situation is dealt with.”  
  
Sheril hummed quietly.  “It would seem so.  Trust is so delicate to begin with,” Sheril spoke.  “Innocence has always been a danger; it can make anyone lose control.”  
  
Bookman said nothing in response to this, and Sheril went on.  “It’s a misfortune how grim this situation has become.  But Suman will be dealt with.”  
  
A hint of a frown tugged at Bookman’s lips, and his eyes were peering.  “You seem quite convinced he did something to the prince.  I didn’t know there was evidence.”  
  
“Nothing explicit,” Sheril admitted smoothly.  “But I can’t imagine why else he wouldn’t try to defend himself – or why he would have lied in the first place.”  
  
As he said this, another thought entered Sheril’s mind.  He looked at Bookman with mild curiosity.  “I haven’t seen your apprentice around since yesterday.  Has he been rather preoccupied?”  
  
“He’s working on something,” Bookman said simply.  “Nothing you should concern yourself with.”  
  
To this, Sheril’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a fleeting second something acidic trickled through his composure.  “I see,” Sheril replied coolly.    
  
Bookman eyed Sheril carefully for a few seconds longer, then continued on walking down the hall.  
  
Sheril watched as he disappeared around the corner, and cursed to himself silently.   _‘Damned Bookman…’_  
  
Briskly, Sheril walked off.  


* * *

  
  
Road hummed to herself.  It was a small, sweet melody – delicate like a child’s lullaby, and silvery like the faint echo of a bell.  It resonated sweetly against the noiselessness of the room, like crystalized sugar dancing upon glass.  In her hand, she tapped at the glass of the hand mirror she so often kept with her – faintly reflecting light from the trickle of sun that came in through the curtains.    
  
The mirror sparked stubbornly.  
  
“That’s annoying,” Road spoke, seemingly to herself at first.  However, Lulu Bell was just off to the side, contained to the form of a black cat once more, and perched on a plush seat.  
  
Eyes shifting, Road’s gaze turned golden.  A small, delicate frown painted her lips, and tapped the mirror again.  Another spark occurred.  
  
“Ugh, they actually  _broke_  the other mirror.  It was so pretty too,” Road complained, her words somewhat drawn out.  She looked over at Road.  “Can you believe it?  They  _clearly_  have no appreciation for finery.”  
  
Lulu Bell only blinked, before lowering herself to lie down on the chair.  The cat’s tail swayed, as she rolled onto her side.  
  
There was the sound of the door clicking open, but Road didn’t need to look up to know who it was.  Still seated on the sofa beside Lulu Bell’s chair, Road continued to run her finger over the glass of the mirror.    
  
“I can’t watch them from this anymore,” Road conversationally pointed out, not even both to look at Sheril as he closed the door behind him.  “But I know where they are – maybe I should pay them a visit. I didn’t get to finish my play date.”  
  
To this, Sheril smiled.  He walked over to where Road was, and gently traced a finger alongside her cheek.  “I know you’d love that – you’d do such a thorough job, too.  But it’ll be better if you don’t.  We can’t risk having to explain anything if you’re somehow held up,” Sheril explained, before adding with an adoring gaze, “Besides.  I’d be devastated if something were to happen to you.  Our whole family would be.”  
  
Road teasingly rolled her eyes.  “You worry too  _way_ much,” Road chided, before swinging the mirror in her grasp.  “The guards Tyki sent out haven’t found Tiedoll and Marie by the way.  Which means they probably ran back or something.  What a bunch of cowards…”  
  
Sherils’s expression grew pensive, and his dark eyes were severe.  “Bookman’s apprentice has seemed to have disappeared somewhere as well…”  
  
Road’s eyebrow raised, and she smiled.  “Oh?  I wonder where….maybe to see if he can find something. Or someone. The Bookmen are so _nosey_.”  
  
Sheril’s eyes darkened.  “We’ll want to avoid that,” Sheril spoke coldly.  “It’s only a matter of time now.  The royals and exorcists will be vulnerable once their…relationship is terminated.  It’ll be much easier for us to deal with them in that state.  Just as Lord Millennium said it would be.”  
  
There was a small pause, and Road spoke.  “I think it’s a mistake.  Not going after them ourselves,” Road stated simply.  “Especially if Alma comes back – it would put a bit of a hitch on everything.”  
  
“Mm.  It would be a problem,” Sheril murmured, before his eyes moved over to Lulu Bell.  His lips upturned.  “Perhaps Lulu Bell would be so kind to finish things off.  Suman is captive, and we can keep an eye on things here.”  
  
Upon hearing this, Lulu Bell turned her head and blinked her bright, yellow eyes.  
  
Road’s eyes glimmered, as she looked over at Sheril with innocent curiosity.  “What are you going to have her do?”  
  
Sheril still kept his focus on Lulu Bell.  “I was going to ask her to see if she could just make sure your cousin won’t come back,” Sheril said.  “You’ll do that for us, won’t you Lulu Bell?”  
  
Lulu Bell stared, then meowed.  
  
Sheril grinned even more.  “Good – I’m glad to hear you had the same thing in mind. Make sure there’s no open wound.  I don’t want anyone to trace the source of what you’ll be doing,” He said, before his irises burned into molten gold.  “If I recall, the prince seems to like apples. Maybe try using one of those.”  
  
Another meow.  Road giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many heavy emotions here. So. Many. This was a really loaded chapter to work on for a plethora of reasons, starting with the whole reveal of Kanda being the exorcist that supposedly lost his shit and killed someone (which, we now know did /not/ happen).
> 
> Alma was a bit difficult to write, because frankly it’s hard not to be overtaken with total /shock/ in this situation. He’s finally learning that the exorcists he’s been staying with for a while now - who have been good to him - are wanted for treason because they’re the Arcadian unit he’s heard so much about. And until now, Alma would have had a /radically/ different mental image of who the Arcaian unit would have consisted of, and even more so regarding the mad exorcist. (Because Kanda? Short temper, yes, but murderer? By this point, Alma is so emotionally attached that even hearing it was a frame job is a lot) But this in mind, I didn’t feel Alma would ever shun or reject Kanda over it; Alma is hurt in his own way, but more so because he’s sensitive to those around him, and with Kanda especially it’s just devastating to know that royals - who Alma is one of them - would go so out of their way to basically ruin a person’s life.
> 
> Which, sort of leads into that confession with him and Kanda. To me, it was really important that there was a moment where Alma accepted Kanda, and what he had gone through - also while validating the fact that it was messed up. I think for Kanda to finally open up to Alma, that needed to happen. Kanda is so used to being blamed and not listened to, that he’s sort of conditioned to expect that treatment at this point, so having Alma there and actually get /upset/ over what happened to Kanda was just something that seemed crucial. (I did debate on whether a kiss would happen here, but writing it felt natural, and plot-wise it worked out better - because these two still have a ways to go with how messy things will be getting).
> 
> Then, we sort of go back to the castle, because shit’s falling apart there still, you know? Tricia, as flawed as she is, is suffering. Her only child is missing and at this point, the situation is looking worse by the second. I’m not a mother, but honestly, I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to be in a position where you’re expected to put on a calm and composed face, all while your only child is possibly dead somewhere and you just don’t know.
> 
> And Sheril is just...a total SOB. Really, like what a terrible person? He’s definitely something else to write, and I was actually glad to bring him a bit more back in this chapter since he’s such a driving, antagonistic force here. 
> 
> Plus, now there’s this looming threat, and I mean...we all know the AU this is based off of, and what direction things are heading in. >.> (The question is just how it’ll take place XD)
> 
> But yeah. Slowly chipping away, and working on chapter 25 now. A few people had asked, and this is looking like it’ll be 27 or 28 chapters plus an epilogue, so I’m hoping to have it completed soon!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and for the support as always! <3 Next update will hopefully be sometime next weekend, and we should figure out where a certain Bookman has gone off to. ;3


	22. When Dusk Falls

It was dark.  
  
Too dark – especially for when it should have only been dusk.  The woods were already so dimly lit during the day, as the trees blackened the earth with its shadows and darkness.  It was difficult to see then, and even more difficult when the sun had set deep below the horizon.  
  
It was cold, too.  Lavi fought back a shiver, as he tugged his thick scarf close around his neck.  The air had an unpleasant dampness to it, in addition to the chill October had brought.  Fortunately, the scarf and coat that Lavi wore was useful in combating this – but only so much.  The sensation was still annoying, and Lavi grimaced as he fought a second shiver.  
  
“Damn,” Lavi muttered, as he paused to glance around his surroundings.  The leaves rustled against the quiet night air, though Lavi was anything but at ease.  It wasn’t as though he had never trekked through the woods; Lavi and Bookman had ventured through different parts of them various times for assignments.  However, Lavi had usually been with Bookman, and Lavi had usually had a better idea of what was going on.  
  
Now, he was on his own.  Looking for something.  
  
_‘Well, someone,’_ Lavi thought, as he resumed on his way.   
  
There was a small snap of a leaf - a slight crunch upon the earth, small and easy to miss.  Lavi immediately stopped walking.  When he looked around, he saw nothing.   
  
He knew he wasn’t alone.  
  
Lavi frowned.  “Old panda better have been right about this….” He murmured, as he heard another shuffle – not far off, and too close to comfort.  Yes, Lavi _definitely_ wasn’t alone.  
  
Instinctively, Lavi fingered his innocence – which was currently somewhat smaller to carry, and concealed inside his coat pocket.  Despite being alone, he was more than prepared to deal with any little _hitches_ in the woods.  
  
There was a flicker of movement in Lavi’s peripheral vision, and his one good eye immediately zoned in on it.  Out of the shadows, he caught sight of something dead and metallic-looking.  
  
Lavi grinned, and activated his innocence.

* * *

  
  
The kitchen was strangely quiet, despite being occupied by everyone.  Evening had fallen, with the sky having begun to darken earlier in the last few days – and despite it not necessarily being incredibly late, the sky was already an inky shade.  
  
Alma glanced around.  He and the other exorcists were all seated at the table.  The atmosphere was solemn though, and Alma could feel his fingers threaten to twitch nervously; he had never done well in more serious conversations.  And Alma had rarely been involved in anything that even held _this_ sort of weight.  
  
It felt…. _heavy._  
  
“We need to know where to go next,” Tiedoll said, causing Alma to re-focus on the conversation at hand.  “It’s only a matter of time before anyone finds us where we are now.  For all we know it could be tomorrow.”  
  
Marie frowned.  “Neither Arcaia or Engelus are areas we should be in.   And we’re already into autumn, so Bovia won’t be wise.  The winters there aren’t exactly kind to people.”  
  
Kanda stared over between Marie and Tiedoll.  His brow was also creased into a pensive frown.  “Lyons will be a high risk too…that place is loaded with CROWs…”  
  
“Yes, that might make it easier for us to get tracked,” Tiedoll agreed.  
  
Alma looked down, expression both rimmed with anxiousness and contemplation.  He realized that he had little to contribute regarding input; Alma had never traveled outside of Engelus extensively, and aside from some schooling and texts he had read, Alma had not actually had any experiences in these territories.  It was a somewhat awkward feeling, and caused Alma to feel a bit useless; he _wished_ he could have said something more.  
  
Daisya leaned back in his chair, as he crossed his arms.  “Ying isn’t the best place either, but I mean, considering the distance that seems like a potentially okay option,” He commented, before he briefly took a second to ponder something.   
  
“There’s actually a territory on the west border to Ying, a little south of Lyons.  It’s sort of a gray area since both kingdoms seems to be eying it, but neither want to piss the other one off by taking it,” Daisya continued, before glancing in between everyone.  “I passed through there when leaving the islands.  It’s quieter and may be a good place to stay for a while.”  
  
Marie angled his face toward Daisya.  “How far of a trek is that?”  
  
Daisya paused.  “Pretty far…even with cutting directly through Lyons, it’d take a few weeks.”  
  
“Mm.  It may be our best bet then.   It’ll be harder for anyone to find us that way,” Tiedoll acknowledged.   
  
Hands twitching, Alma grasped at his thigh as he kept his gaze lowered.  _‘A few weeks of traveling…that’s so far…’_  
  
Kanda, who had sitting beside Alma, happened to glance over.  He fought the urge to frown when he saw the way that Alma was anxiously fiddling with his hands.  
  
Carefully, Kanda moved his own hand over beneath the table.  His action was somewhat hesitant, and subtle, but he gingerly brushed his hand over Alma’s, causing the nervous movement to steady.  
  
Tiedoll, having taken notice of Alma’s quietness, gazed over at him.  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” He asked.  
  
Alma looked up.  There were knots in his stomach, but he nodded regardless.  “I’m sure.”  
  
As Alma said this, he found himself wrapping his hand into Kanda’s tightly.  
  
Tiedoll nodded.  “Very well,” He said, before once more looking in between everyone.  “Does anyone have any opposition to this plan?”  
  
There was a small exchange of glances between everyone, and everyone shook their heads.   
  
“Guess we’re all in,” Daisya said.  
  
Marie turned toward Tiedoll.  “We should leave as soon as possible,” He suggested quietly.  “That trip will be long, and we don’t want to risk anyone catching up to us.”  
  
Kanda looked up. “You think by tomorrow we should leave?”  
  
Tiedoll nodded.  “Ideally.  But we should try to get what rest we can tonight.  We won’t be getting much once we’re on the move again.”  
  
Alma took a small breath as he heard this.  Tomorrow.  They’d be leaving tomorrow.  His heart flipped about, and Alma felt a flurry of uncertainty overtake him.  He had always wanted to see other places.  He had always wanted to travel more.  But this situation felt so _permanent_.  
  
It was permanent.  
  
Daisya’s eyes moved over to Alma, and he grinned despite the somber atmosphere.  “You must be pretty excited.  Bet you’ve never lived life this on the edge before.”  
  
Kanda scoffed quietly, clearly not amused by the comment.  However, Alma managed a weak smile despite the flurry of emotions he was continuing to feel.  “No, definitely not like this…”  
  
As Alma spoke these words, Tiedoll’s gaze happened to rest on the prince.  However, he said nothing more on the topic.  
  
The discussion dwindled after that.  Soon, everyone decided to retire given the lengthy trip that would be awaiting them all in the morning.  Alma felt especially drained; not only had he been hit with the scope of everything, but he had just…had so much transpire _emotionally_.  It felt as though Alma had been flung about through a horribly tumultuous force, leaving him tired and spent.  
  
However, there was another feeling – one that sent a small, excitable flutter through his chest.   
  
Alma’s mind flashed back to earlier, when he had gone to find Kanda outside.  Like a vivid picture, Alma found himself recalling the way Kanda had so gently taken his hands, and pressed his own lips against Alma’s.  
  
The sensation – ghostly, and like the gossamer peck of affection – lingered, and Alma raised his fingers to his lips briefly.  Alma then glanced back into the kitchen; he had not yet left, and could see that Kanda was there.  Kanda, however, looked as though he were in the middle of discussing something with Tiedoll.  
  
While Alma was staring, Kanda’s eyes happened to shift, and his and Alma’s gazes met briefly.  
  
Alma felt an urge to stay, but not wanting to draw attention to himself, retreated back upstairs.

* * *

  
  
Alma hadn’t been able to fall asleep.  Not really.  
  
He knew he should have been asleep by now.  He would need all the rest he could get, just as Tiedoll had said earlier that evening.  But, Alma’s mind was too rampant with thoughts: leaving, the exorcists, Kanda.  They all swirled in his mind like a whirlwind, making it just about impossible for Alma to drift off into unconsciousness.  
  
There were too many things.  Alma rolled onto his side, eyes still open as his expression was contemplative – and even a little uneasy.  He was nervous about leaving, but was terrified about being on his own.  And then there was Kanda.  What were they now?  After being outside, when Kanda had held Alma for those gentle, quite moments (after they had _kissed_ of all things) they hadn’t actually discussed what had happened, and had fallen into something of a comfortable silence.  Even going back to the house had been that way.  
  
Except…now Alma felt unsure.  Kanda had held his hand there at the table earlier, discreet and gently securing.  However, it wasn’t as though there was any other indication that anything had gone on between them.  Was it because Kanda didn’t want anyone else to know?  Was there a way to go about this sort of thing?  Alma didn’t have the slightest idea, and it wasn’t helpful that Alma had never been romantically involved with anyone before.   Alma hadn’t even been _kissed_ before.  Not like what Kanda had done.  
  
Alma tugged at the fabric of the pillow, then moved over to finger some dried lavender stems.  The scent was not as strong, but still enough that Alma could smell it with ease.   As he did this, Alma found himself wishing that he were with Kanda in that instant.  
  
A small hint of worry filled Alma’s eyes.  Was that normal?  Kanda was only just down the hall, but Alma wanted Kanda _with him_.  Alma didn’t want to seem needy or clingy though, and what if Kanda got annoyed with Alma like when they had first met?  Would Kanda change his mind, and want nothing to do with Alma?  Alma really hoped not – especially if Alma was going to be traveling with the other exorcists now.  
  
Exhaling, Alma sat up.  Leaving.  He needed to focus on leaving, and making sure he was ready to travel with the other exorcists.  That was what was most important.  
  
Outside, there was the faint sound of a floorboard creaking.  Alma looked up, and felt his heartbeat quicken in nervousness.   
  
_‘Maybe someone else couldn’t sleep,’_ Alma tried to tell himself, as he swallowed the small tremor of fear in his heart.  Alma knew that the mirror had been destroyed, and that whatever had happened couldn’t happen again.  But, there was the lingering sense of dread that something _could_ happen, and before Alma could distract himself his mind flashed back to that horrible night.  
  
_Water.  Drowning.  A hand shoving his head down.  
  
Lungs burning.  Vines tangled onto his legs.  
  
Drowning._  
  
A small gasp escaped Alma as he tried to collect himself.  He shook his head.  No…no, Alma was fine.  He would be fine.  _‘It’s nothing…it’s just nothing…’_  
  
What if it wasn’t, though?  A tinge of fear tickled at Alma, nagging him from behind and refusing to let him find any sort of peace.  It didn’t matter how much attempted to rationalize himself; his recent experiences and unease were too potent to get a hold on.  
  
Standing, Alma went to the door.  At this rate, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he made sure it was nothing.  He opened it quickly, before he could change his mind, and-  
  
Alma froze, and saw Kanda, looking as though he had been getting ready to knock.  
  
Alma looked at Kanda curiously.  
  
Swiftly, Kanda put his hand down.  A bit stiffly, he looked away in a bit of an awkward manner.  “I thought I heard you awake.”  
  
“Oh,” Alma said, before nodding.  “Ah, yeah, I couldn’t sleep…”  
  
At this point, Alma felt himself grow quiet, as he was unsure of what to say.  Kanda wasn’t saying anything either, and the silence between them felt odd.   
  
Brushing a strand of hair out of his face, Alma somewhat shyly looked away.  “Did you…want to talk about anything?” He asked.  
  
Kanda’s attention moved back onto Alma, and for a moment his gaze rested on the prince.  But, Kanda looked off the side, and his eyes seemed to grow distant.  “You seemed nervous.  When we were downstairs with everyone earlier.”  
  
Alma blinked, and looked back at Kanda.  He hadn’t been sure what he expected Kanda to say; Alma certainly hadn’t anticipated that Kanda would have sought him out this hour of night.  However, as Kanda spoke, Alma realized that he had been hoping the conversation may had taken a different course, and he swallowed the small bit of disappointment he felt.  
  
“Just a little,” Alma admitted softly, before offering a small, wary smile to Kanda.  “I never really traveled anywhere before.  All I know about anywhere else is what I’ve read or others have told me.”  
  
Kanda frowned, and crossed his arms.  His heard titled to the side slightly.   
  
Alma shifted his weight from one foot to another, as he anxiously took in the silence Kanda gave him.  Alma took in a small breath, and exhaled in a gentle sigh.  “You…think it’s a mistake I’m coming, don’t you?”  
  
It was more of a statement than a question, but Alma couldn’t keep the words from spilling out.   It was a challenge to think otherwise though, when Kanda seemed so wary about Alma coming despite the oddly tender interactions they had shared earlier that day.  
  
Kanda turned back to face Alma sharply, and scowled.  “I didn’t say that,” He inputted, sounding a bit put off by the assumption Alma had made.  
  
To this, Alma didn’t say anything, and his expression was sheepish.  
  
Kanda sighed.  “Just…make sure you really want to do this,” Kanda spoke, his words coming out in a low murmur.  His eyes met Alma’s, and held the prince’s gaze.  “It’s not like we’re planning on coming back, so…”  
  
Alma swallowed.  He knew this.  Damn it, _he knew this_ -  
  
“I know,” Alma said, as he attempted make his resolve clear.  However, Alma’s voice was weak.  “I know there’d be no coming back…”  
  
Somewhere inside, Alma felt empty as he spoke these words.  The dull ache of yearning had never truly left him – not even after the mirror incident.  Alma knew a part of him didn’t want to leave, and didn’t want to say goodbye to his old life.  But, what was he supposed to do?  Returning seemed daunting and frighteningly impossible, and to face _Sheril_ …  
  
“I can’t go back,” Alma said, voice hardly audible.  “I wish I could, but…how could I? I don’t even know what’d I do or how I’d be able to handle seeing Sheril again…”  
  
Kanda stared, and there was a brief moment where he looked as though he wanted to say something.  But, before he could, Alma continued.  
  
“Besides, if I didn’t go with you then…I’d never see you again…”  
  
The comment, also spoken in a delicate softness, caused a slightly startled look to appear in Kanda’s eyes.  His attention remained on Alma entirely, who was looking somewhat downward in the darkness – weary, and vulnerable, yet _honest_.  The small confession had poured out with a shocking authenticity that seemed to make something in Kanda’s own chest crack a little.  
  
Somewhat cautiously, Kanda gingerly brushed a finger along the side of Alma’s cheek, causing the prince’s gaze to rise a bit.  From there, Kanda could see Alma’s eyes: so brightly blue despite the dark hall they were in, and Kanda felt an unexpected flood of something powerful fill him in that instant.  
  
Alma looked at Kanda, unable to break eye contact.  While doing this, he could feel a hand instinctively reach for Kanda’s – yet without having to make much effort, the hand was gently taken by Kanda.  
  
Kanda brushed aside Alma’s bangs.  “Nothing bad will happen to you again…” Kanda murmured softly.  “I won’t let that happen…”  
  
Alma’s heart thudded in his chest softly, and he could feel a blush color his face.   His attention was fixated though, as his eyes bore into Kanda’s.  They were such deep, intense eyes – the kind that easily could have intimidated anyone, even Alma himself.  But now, Alma couldn’t look away, and wanted nothing more than to lose himself in that intense gaze.  He wanted nothing more than to stare into them forever, and never look away.  
  
Kanda held Alma’s gaze a bit longer, but he moved slightly.  Before he could possibly pull back, Alma tugged on Kanda’s hand gently, causing the exorcist to look at the prince questioningly.  
  
Alma’s eyes were imploring.  “Stay with me tonight?” Alma quietly pleaded.  
  
If Kanda had intended to leave at any point, the resolve seemed to dissolve in that instant.    Tenderly, he moved his hand along the side of Alma’s face, and cupped his cheek.  Kanda then leaned in, and rested his forehead against Alma’s as he closed his eyes.  
  
“Okay,” Kanda whispered.  
  
Alma stepped out of the doorway after that, so Kanda come in.  They shut the door behind them, closing themselves off from the rest of everything, and they were alone.  
  
As soon as they were cut off from the rest of the house, Kanda leaned in to kiss Alma.  Heart leaping excitably, Alma was more than willing to accept such; he had never had such an experience before earlier that day, and was suddenly aware that _this_ was what he had been hoping for when Kanda came by.   Alma’s senses tingled, heightened and screaming to take in every small detail: the way Kanda’s hand felt against his, and the slight roughness to Kanda’s lips.  Alma wanted to remember every single thing, and cherish the memory always.  
  
At some point, Kanda had started to guide Alma back to the bed.   Alma let him do so with ease, and soon he could feel himself sitting back onto the cot, as Kanda crawled onto the bed with him.  During this, Kanda was still kissing Alma – slowly, and carefully.  Alma, in his inexperience, felt himself start to cave quickly, and he pressed his mouth more eagerly against Kanda’s, their tongues colliding.  
  
Kanda pulled back a little, breaking away for air.  He was over Alma, both arms locking Alma down as the prince remained on his back.  Several strands of hair fell loose from Kanda’s ponytail, and to Alma’s surprise there was a faint smile on his lips.   
  
Kanda brushed Alma’s bangs out of his face.  “Don’t rush so much,” He chided, though his words were soft.  
  
Alma’s face heated, and he looked rather embarrassed.  “Sorry – am I not supposed to go that fast?” He asked, not really certain as to how these things were supposed to be…paced.  “I’ve…never really been with anyone like this before, so…”  
  
Hearing this, Kanda was somewhat taken aback – as though he hadn’t anticipated such a confession from Alma.  His eyes quickly softened though, and without saying anything he shifted his position.  In a swift motion, Kanda got onto his side so he was now lying beside Alma, and snaked an arm beneath Alma to pull him close.  “Come here,” He instructed lowly.  
  
Alma did so, and his body was turned so he was facing Kanda.  Their bodies were pressed closely together, and Alma found his hand resting on Kanda’s shoulder, whereas Kanda’s arms were secured around Alma’s waist snuggly.  
  
Kanda’s face pressed against Alma’s, and his lips gently brushed against Alma’s forehead.  “Let’s stay like this for now.”  
  
Alma’s eyes moved up to meet Kanda’s, and he smiled.  “Okay,” He said, more than anything just happy to be with Kanda right there.  Close.  Connected.  
  
Eventually, Alma could feel his eyes close as he remained entangled in Kanda’s grasp.  There was the soothing sensation of Kanda running his fingers through Alma’s hair, and that paired with the rhythmic rise and fall of Kanda’s chest pressed against his own, Alma soon found himself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.  
  
_‘I just…want to stay with him…’_ Alma thought, as he gradually continued to fall from consciousness.  
  
A gentle darkness overtook Alma from there, with him periodically waking up from time to time.  He never did so fully though, but only enough to feel the warmth of Kanda’s body against his own, and to hear the faint breathing that wasn’t his.  Each time, Alma was comforted, and each time, Alma fell back asleep.  
  
But after indistinguishable amount of time, Alma felt a shift, and the source of warmth and comfort was removed.  It was a slow, careful motion – possibly in an attempt to keep Alma from waking.  Alma instinctively reached over.  When he realized that Kanda was no longer beside him, Alma blearily opened his eyes, and sat up.  “Yuu?” He asked, as he turned to look in the room.  
  
It was still dark, but when Alma looked, he saw Kanda was there: awake, and looking out the window.  Even in the darkness, Alma could see that there was a frown on Kanda’s face, as though he were seeing something he didn’t like.   
  
Alma’s face turned into one of confusion, as he tried to wake up a bit more.  “Yuu, what is it?  Is something wrong?”  
  
Kanda glanced over, and opened his mouth to say something.  However, before he could do so, there was a flash of light from outside, and Kanda turned back to the window.  
  
Getting out of bed, Alma walked over.  “Is it a storm?” He asked, not sure what the light had been – maybe lightning, if anything.  
  
“It’s not a storm,” Kanda said, as his frown deepened.  
  
Alma looked out the window.  To his surprise, the sky was clear, and he could see several stars above.  But then, there was another flash of light – something that looked as though it were coming from some area of the woods.  
  
“Damn it,” Kanda cursed lowly, before turning to leave.  
  
“Yuu, wait-!” Alma started to say, but Kanda was already out the door.  
  
Quickly, Alma followed.  By the time he had reached the hallway, he could hear Kanda talking to someone else – Tiedoll by the sounds of it.  
  
“Is it an akuma?” Tiedoll was asking, somehow already alert despite having just been woken up.  
  
“I don’t know.  But the light was getting closer to where we are,” Kanda answered.  “It could be an akuma, but it could be something else.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded.  “We shouldn’t ignore it…not with everything that’s happened.”  
  
“I can go on ahead to check it out,” Kanda gruffly stated, making a move to leave.  
  
“Don’t go alone,” Tiedoll rushed out.  “I can let the others know, but I can-“  
  
“I can go with Yuu,” Alma stated, having just approached the two.  The words had spilled forward quickly, and Alma hadn’t even thought about it – he had only known that he didn’t want Kanda to leave, and that if anything Alma wanted to stay close to him.  
  
Kanda looked at Alma sharply, and appeared as though he wanted to argue.  Tiedoll didn’t see an issue though, and nodded.  “I can join you both soon – but be careful.  If it seems like it could be guards, turn around immediately.”  
  
Alma nodded, and Kanda exhaled, nodding as well.  Kanda’s eyes flickered to Alma briefly, before he started down the hall.  “Come on,” He said lowly.  
  
Alma followed.  They both headed downstairs, each grabbing a cloak to keep warm from the cold night air.  Kanda took a hold of Mugen, activating the sword, and once they left the house Alma did the same with his bow innocence.  
  
They ventured out, heading in the direction that the light had been seen earlier – although, it was dark now.  As they entered into the woods, Alma felt a chill – both from the cold, and from the unease at being back in the woods again.  
  
Kanda glanced over, and took a note of Alma’s discomfort.  He scowled, and looked forward.  “You should have stayed back.  It’s not safe.”  
  
Alma turned toward Kanda.  “But _you_ were going to risk coming out here-“  
  
“That’s different,” Kanda argued, as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the surrounding area.  
  
A pout-like frown appeared on Alma’s face, and he also turned his attention forward, biting back a huff.  “I don’t see how it is…”  
  
Kanda appeared as though he wanted to retort, but stopped moving.  Alma did as well, at first not sure what had caused Kanda to do so.  But then, Alma heard it: a slight rustle nearby, faint yet distinctive.  
  
Another chill passed through Alma, and he fought the urge to shudder.  
  
Kanda gripped the handle of his sword tightly, and on the same note Alma readied his bow.  He had no idea what to expect, or if it would be an akuma.  But, Alma wasn’t going to be tricked this time; this time, Alma would be ready to actually fight back if need be.   _‘I can do this…’_  
  
Another rustle, and something came out of the darkness.  
  
Kanda didn’t wait, and attacked, swinging his sword.  It was blocked immediately.  
  
The weapon that had blocked it was like none that Alma had seen before.  Dark, and strange, it resembled a hammer: a large, black hammer that seemed to illuminate faintly in the same way that Kanda’s anti-akuma weapon did when they clashed.  It was strange, and stood out to Alma, but what stood out even more was the person wielding the weapon.  
  
Alma’s eyes widened, as he recognized _who_ it was that Kanda was attacking.  
  
“Yuu, no, _wait_!”  Alma shouted, as he ran forward, bow still clutched yet reaching with his free hand to stop Kanda from further attacking.  
  
Kanda stiffened, and whipped his head back toward Alma.  “Alma, what the _hell_ -!?”  
  
“Wait, _Alma_!?” Lavi exclaimed, who was still holding the hammer up to block Kanda’s blade.   
  
Upon hearing Lavi’s exclamation, Kanda faltered, but he didn’t pull back his weapon.  He looked back at Alma, scowling as he hissed.  “You know him?”  
  
Alma nodded his head quickly, before speaking.  “Yes, so don’t attack him!”  
  
“Yeah, don’t slice me up or anything!” Lavi added, as he still was blocking the sword from coming down on him.  
  
Kanda wavered, clearly wary about trusting Lavi.  But after taking one look at Alma’s pleading gaze, Kanda turned back to Lavi, and sneered quietly under his breath before pulling Mugen back.  
  
Lavi staggered a little, and Alma quickly ran up to him, not waiting before he threw his arms around the Bookman.  “Lavi!”  Alma addressed, voice both excitable and confused as he hugged him.  Alma then pulled away, eyes burning with a million questions.  “Lavi – what are you doing here?  Are you by yourself? I was so worried I’d never see you again!”  
  
Lavi had finally managed to compose himself, but was swiftly trying to keep up with all of Alma’s inquiries.  “I’m – it’s complicated, but Bookman sent me, and shit – what are _you_ doing out here!?”  
  
Before Alma could answer, Kanda spoke, having caught the name “Bookman.”  “You said Bookman sent you?” Kanda asked, words a bit rigid.  
  
Lavi nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m his apprentice.”  
  
Kanda frowned, and Alma looked back at the other exorcist in confusion.  “Yuu, do you know Bookman?” Alma asked, somewhat lost as to why Kanda had seemed to zone in on Bookman’s names of all things.  
  
Kanda’s expression was still somewhat severe, but he didn’t go into anymore detail.  He briefly glanced around their surroundings, before looking at Alma and Lavi.  “We can’t discuss this here.  Not when anything could hear us – or attack us,” Kanda spoke.  
  
“I’ll second that.  I’ve already had to deal with too many akuma since coming into this place,” Lavi mumbled.  “I’m definitely more an urban type of guy.”  
  
Kanda scoffed under his breath, but didn’t say anything.  Instead, he turned more directly to Alma.  “Let’s go back to the house.”  
  
“Okay,” Alma said, before turning to Lavi and smiling.  “It’s just this way – it’s not a far walk.”  
  
“Sounds good – I’ll give anything to be in a place with four walls.”  
  
The three of them started back after that, with neither of them noticing the pair of yellow, cat-like eyes that had been watching from the darkness.

* * *

  
  
By the time Kanda, Alma, and Lavi had returned, everyone else was awake at the house.  Tiedoll had actually been outside, having been about to seek out where Kanda and Alma had gone – but the others caught him just as they were returning.   
  
Tiedoll looked, attention immediately landing on Lavi when he saw the three returning.  Before he could ask or say anything, Kanda approached Tiedoll, and spoke lowly.  “He says Bookman sent him.”  
  
Something akin to recognition flashed in Tiedoll’s eyes, and he nodded.  “I see…”  
  
A bit back, Alma looked at Lavi.  His eyes were bright, and rimmed with curiosity as he spoke animatedly.  “I thought you and Bookman had returned to Lyons – did something happen?  How did you end up here?”  
  
Lavi turned, and looked over at Alma.  Despite usually having a more carefree disposition, Lavi’s expression was lacking in such, and his lips were pressed together pensively.  “Bookman got word of you going missing, so we went back to Engelus.”  
  
Alma froze.  He hadn’t realized that Lavi and Bookman had actually gone back to Engelus, and the information sparked a flurry of questions that filled Alma’s head.  
  
Lavi didn’t wait for Alma to ask, and continued.  “Listen, Alma-“  
  
“Get inside,” Kanda brusquely called, before Lavi and Alma could stay outside any longer.  
  
Alma gave Lavi one final glance – uneasy, and eyes yearning for answers – but went on to follow Kanda and Tiedoll into the house.  Lavi did the same.  
  
Once they were all inside, Alma could see that Marie and Daisya were both awake as well.  They were seated in the living room area, both wearing wary expressions.  
  
Tiedoll looked over at Lavi.  “I hear you came on behalf of Bookman.”  
  
Lavi nodded.  “Yeah…” He said, before something shrewd flickered in his gaze.  “Told me that at some point someone was hiding out here, and that maybe I could find something useful.  Didn’t know if he’d be right.”  
  
_“Lay it on me,” Lavi said.  
  
Bookman watched Lavi carefully, then spoke.  “I find it difficult to believe that Suman did anything to Alma, and not because Klaud Nine keeps vouching for him.  It’s strange he isn’t speaking as to whether he did it or not – he’s not even attempting to defend himself,” Bookman observed.  He looked at Lavi with keen eyes.  “Suman is keeping quiet for a reason, and I’m in agreement with Klaud it’s because he’s trying to protect someone.”  
  
Lavi raised an eyebrow.  “You think it could be Alma?”  
  
“Perhaps.  Or maybe not.  Maybe just his family for all we know,” Bookman said.  
  
“Sooo,” Lavi started, as he crossed his arms.  “What do you need me to do?”  
  
Bookman paused, then continued.  “At one point, there may have been some individuals I knew who were out there in the woods.  More than likely they’re gone by now – they’d have been fools to still be there,” Bookman said.  “But if they were out there at any point, I’m wondering if the prince may have taken shelter where they were.”  
  
Lavi frowned.  “Send me off into the woods to chase a hunch, huh?”  
  
“It’s an observation,” Bookman snapped.  “I want you to at least look around – a Bookman’s eye is different than any other person’s.  If anything, you might find something.”_  
  
Kanda glared at Lavi.  “You really expect us to believe you just _happened_ to find us here on some whim?”  
  
 Lavi looked over at Kanda.  “Absolutely not.  But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.”  
  
Tiedoll hummed. “Bookman always was one with a keen eye…”  
  
Surprise befell Alma’s expression.  Considering Tiedoll had been the exorcist general in Arcaia, it only made sense that Tiedoll would have known of the Bookman Clan – however, by the way Tiedoll was sounding, it appeared as though he knew Bookman personally.  
  
Daisya was the next to speak.  He glanced over at Kanda and Marie, then to Tiedoll.  “Bookman…you mean the same one who help you three leave Arcaia?”  
  
_Tiedoll and Kanda hurried.  They had already almost been caught twice – each time with them narrowly dodging the Arcaian guards.  But, the two of them had been fortunate enough to make it to their intended destination: deep into the underground canals, and into the dimly lit darkness.  
  
Once Tiedoll and Kanda made it down the twisting stairwell, they could see a small figure up ahead – just beside a boat that looked as though it had been prepped to leave.  At first, Kanda could not tell himself who the man was: he was old, and small, with a stern, wrinkled face.  
  
Kanda’s attention only lasted on the strange man for so long before his eyes eventually moved over to the boat.  Inside, was an unconscious Marie, and beside him was something long and narrow that was wrapped up – something that looked like a sword.  
  
Mugen.  
  
The old man looked at Tiedoll once they approached.  “He’s been stabilized, and should wake up soon.  You best leave now, Froi.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded, and a look of gratitude lingered in his eyes.  “Thank you, Bookman.  I know I’ll never be able to repay you for this,” He said, before giving the keys he had used to free Kanda back to the old man.  
  
Bookman snorted, and took the keys.  “You can repay me by leaving, and making sure no one finds you.”  
  
Tiedoll smiled, despite the circumstances.  “We’ll make sure,” He reassured, before turning to Kanda.  “Let’s go.”  
  
Kanda stared, somewhat taken aback.  Tiedoll was leaving with him?  Kanda had expected at best he might be on his own, and that he would simply have to fend for himself.  It was what he had been conditioned to do: to survive, and never to trust.  Never to rely on anyone.  
  
But in that moment, he felt weak.  And without saying anything, Kanda left with Tiedoll and Marie.  
  
_ Tiedoll looked back at Daisya, and nodded.  “Yes, the same Bookman.”  
  
“Bookman…helped you escape?” Alma asked, voice soft.  By this point, his head felt as though it were spinning, as he tried to process yet another huge piece of information.  Bookman knew – he knew that it had been some sort of ploy, and yet he hadn’t say anything?  _Why_?  
  
Lavi spoke again.  “Well, now that _that_ confusion is out of the way, “ He started, before his attention moved to Alma.  “I was really looking for any signs of what happened to you – but hell, you’ve been here?  _Why_?  Everything has gone to shit since you’ve disappeared!”  
  
Alma looked over at Lavi, and his eyes filled with alarm.  “What’s happened?  Is my mother alright?  What about Klaud and Suman?”  
  
Lavi frowned.  “I haven’t hardly seen Queen Tricia – she’s been a total mess, and Sheril never leaves her,” He answered.  “And Suman…”  
  
Lavi trailed off, and Alma frowned.  “Lavi, _what_ happened?” The prince pressed, suddenly feeling anxious.  
  
Lavi shook his head, and looked back at Alma.  “Alma, they’re saying Suman _killed_ you.”  
  
Alma’s eyes nearly bulged.  “ _What_!?  That-that’s _insane_!  Suman _never_ hurt me!” Alma exploded, just _appalled_ by what Lavi had told him.  “Suman took me into the woods, because Sheril tried to _force_ him to kill me, but he didn’t!  He’s the one who let me go!”  
  
“Yeah, well that isn’t the picture Sheril’s been painting…” Lavi responded.  
  
Marie, who up until the point had been silent, frowned.  “So Sheril framed him…just like….”  
  
Marie didn’t finish his statement, and Kanda looked over at the other exorcist sharply.  He tightly gripped at the hilt of his sword – so much that his knuckles where white, and his jaw was clenched.  
  
Tiedoll’s expression was solemn, and an unsettled look was in his eyes.  “We always suspected that the Kamelots played a role in what happened in Arcaia, but we were never certain.  But this…” He said, before adjusting his glasses.  “It’s like they’re trying to break the relationship of the exorcists and the royals…”  
  
Alma looked at Tiedoll, completely lost.  “Why, though?  Why would they do that?” He questioned.  “That doesn’t make any sense!”  
  
“Not unless they’re getting something out of it…” Lavi suggested, before sighing.  He looked at Alma.  “But, hey – you’re clearly alive, which is already one good thing.  Though I can’t say I expected to find you with this lot of people.”  
  
Upon hearing this, Kanda gave Lavi a _scathing_ glare.  
  
“Yeah, and you lucked out with that,” Daisya spoke, as he leaned back in the chair he was seated in.  “Considering we weren’t even going to be here come morning…”  
  
Lavi blinked, and before he could ask, Tiedoll elaborated.  “You can imagine things are already messy for us as it is.  This is only confirmation we do need to relocate.  We aren’t exactly in a position where we can afford to be found.”  
  
As Tiedoll said this, his attention then moved to Alma.  “Though…I’m not sure what it is you’ll want to do now.  We can’t afford to stay any longer regardless.”  
  
Alma looked over at Tiedoll, and faltered.  That was right – he had been intending to leave with the other exorcists.  And they were supposed to leave in the morning.  
  
Almost too quickly, Lavi caught on.  His gaze shifted between Tiedoll and Alma, and the realization slammed into him.  “Wait – you weren’t actually going to just _leave_ with them were you?” He asked, sounding rather stunned as he looked at Alma.  
  
Alma winced, not having anticipated such a tone.  “Lavi…it’s complicated,” Alma spoke.  However, as the words came out, Alma noticed that his own voice wavered, and sounded weak.  
  
“Well, yeah, loads of things are complicated.  But I mean, you’re coming back now, right?” Lavi asked.  
  
Hesitation filled Alma, and he found himself unable to answer.  
  
“Alma, are you _serious_?” Lavi exclaimed, completely thrown by Alma’s unwillingness to answer.  “You can’t tell me you honestly are thinking about running off in a situation like this!”  
  
Alma looked at Lavi, and his expression was pleading.  “Lavi, it’s not like that-“ Alma tried to explain, but he cut off, not even sure _what_ to say.  Between everything he kept learning, and now the sudden pressure of making such a decision, Alma felt as though his head were about to explode from it all.  The thought of leaving, the thought of returning, Suman being pinned for treason, the possibility of facing _Sheril_ – Alma didn’t think he could handle it.  He didn’t think he could handle it, and he definitely couldn’t handle Lavi going off on him in front of _everyone_.  
  
“Then what _is_ it like?” Lavi questioned.  “You’re acting like this is something you can just run away from, and you _can’t_ – whether you go back or not is going to affect everyone!”  
  
Alma whipped his head back in Lavi’s direction.  “I know, but-“  
  
“But _what_?  You’re a royal, and this is what you have to do – you can’t just pick and choose what you want to deal with-“  
  
“ _Hey_ ,” Kanda cut in, as he stepped in between Lavi and Alma.  He was especially close to Lavi though – threateningly close, and looking as though he were only seconds away from pulling Mugen out.   
  
Glaring, Kanda spoke lowly.  “Maybe you should just _back the hell off.”_  
  
“Kanda,” Tiedoll spoke, trying to calm the other exorcist.  
  
Lavi reacted to Kanda’s words with his own cool look.  “What, and _not_ tell him how severe things are?  He needs to know what’s at stake here!”  
  
Kanda glared, and looked as though he were about to draw out Mugen-  
  
Quickly, Alma ran up to Kanda and took hold of his arm.  “Yuu, don’t!  He didn’t mean anything by it – he’s just worried!”  
  
Kanda stopped at this, and he turned back to Alma.  He was immediately faced with Alma’s eyes – large, and imploring.  Pleading.  
  
Kanda turned back to Lavi, and gave one final glower before backing down.  
  
The air was still tense, and there was a feeling of uncertainty that lingered. Tiedoll was the one to chance breaking the silence though.  “Regardless of what anyone is doing, it won’t be good to stay up all night.  We should all try to at least get some rest.”  
  
Daisya stood up, somewhat uneasy in the tense atmosphere.  “I’m for that.”  
  
Everyone else seemed to be in agreement, having had their energy just about spent from all that had happened.  As the group began to disperse, Alma made an attempt to do the same, though he was swiftly intercepted by Lavi.  
  
“Hey,” Lavi said, before he glanced over briefly at where the other exorcists were.  When he saw they were out of earshot, he turned back to Alma and spoke. “Look, I don’t know what’s all gone on here…but you _can’t_ go with these people.  They’re all marked for treason!”  
  
Alma looked at Lavi, and frowned.  “But they didn’t do anything wrong!”  
  
“I didn’t say they did, but you’re not _thinking_ ,” Lavi emphasized.  “I don’t even know why you’re stuck on this.  Sheril is basically manipulating everything, and if Suman’s sentence is passed it’s going to completely wreck whatever alliance the exorcists and royals have left – especially when the council gets wind of it.”  
  
This caused Alma to fall silent.  It wasn’t as though he didn’t understand the weight of what Lavi was explaining to him – he  _did_.  But that was just it: it was heavy, and it was so much.  Too much.  Alma was overwhelmed, and slammed with all sorts of emotions.  The fear of going back.  The desire to go back.  The fact that if he went back, he might never see…  
  
Alma tensed, and his focus shifted over to where Kanda was.  Kanda had yet to leave the room, Alma realized, and was his attention was placed where Alma and Lavi were.  There was a look of distrust in his eyes as he seemed to focus on Lavi mostly, but as Alma’s gaze moved over, Kanda caught it.  
  
Alma froze, unable to look away.  
  
Noticing the way Alma’s attention had derailed, Lavi’s attention also moved over to the source, then back to Alma.  His brow was creased slightly.  “Alma-“  
  
Alma turned back to Lavi sharply.  “Just give me until morning, alright?” Alma tried, hoping that if anything he could get at least a few measly hours to _think_.  “I just…I need  _time_ -“  
  
“Yeah, well we don’t really have a lot,” Lavi pointed out, before he ran a hair through his brightly-colored hair.  He sighed.  “But fine.  Morning.  You better have a more solid idea of what you’re doing, and it better be the right one.  Too much is riding on this.”  
  
Mutely, Alma nodded.  He wanted to say more – to reassure Lavi that he  _would_  have a decision, and that it  _would_  be the right one.  He wanted Lavi to know that was thinking about everything, and that he _was_ doing his best.  
  
But Alma couldn’t say anything, because he didn’t know.  He didn’t know any of this.

* * *

  
  
Kanda had given up on sleep.  The arrival of the Bookman apprentice had been at an ungodly hour of night, and it would only be a matter of time before the sun would rise.  It was a poor decision though, given that Kanda would have to be moving with everyone else come morning; he should have been trying to preserve his energy.    
  
But, Kanda couldn’t.  He was too restless.    
  
Kanda took a breath, and allowed for the biting chill of the night air to fill his lungs.  He needed to step out of the house, and to get away from everyone.  Even Alma, as much as a part of Kanda yearned to disagree.  He hadn’t been blind in noticing how Alma had casted a few looks in Kanda’s direction before retreating to his room, as though he were  _hoping_  that Kanda might have gone with him.  
  
Guilt pinched Kanda’s insides.  A part of him had wanted to go, but he needed to be alone.  
  
He leaned against the side of the house.  It was dark outside, but Kanda’s eyes had adjusted well enough, and he was able to make out part of the starry sky up ahead.  Somewhat absently, his attention shifted to one of the windows of the house – the one that was for Alma’s room.    
  
Kanda wondered if Alma had managed to fall asleep, but somehow, he doubted it.  
  
Someone came outside at that point, completely catching Kanda’s attention.  He turned quickly, tense, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword instinctively.  Eyes narrowing, Kanda immediately recognized the individual.  
  
Lavi shut the back door behind him, and slouched with the side of his shoulder against it so he could face toward Kanda.  “Fancy seeing you out here,” He said, in a tone that was far too casual for Kanda’s liking.  “Kanda, right?  Or Yuu?  You go by both or something?”  
  
Kanda glared icily.  “It’s Kanda,” He corrected, not wanting Lavi to think he could call him whatever the hell he felt like.  
  
“Right.  Kanda, then,” Lavi said before shifting his position a bit.  
  
There was a slightly tense, uneasy pause.  Kanda looked forward in something of an attempt to ignore Lavi.  He didn’t know why the apprentice had come outside, but Kanda had no desire to engage with him.  
  
To Kanda’s frustration, Lavi ended up speaking.  “So, you’re the famed rogue exorcist, huh?  Must be a pretty wild life with all the running and hiding.”  
  
Kanda turned, and his eyes were glacial.  Again, his fingers itched toward the hilt of his sword; he didn’t know what Lavi was getting at, but Kanda was losing his patience, and  _fast_.  
  
Lavi’s eye flickered to Kanda’s anti-akuma weapon, then back up to meet Kanda’s gaze.  “Calm down.  I’m only stating what you already know.”  
  
Kanda’s glare deepened, but he said nothing.  However, he did back down a bit.  As much as he hated to remember it, Alma seemed to be  _friends_  with this guy – and it wouldn’t do much good for Kanda to slice up the Bookman-in-training right there.  
  
This didn’t mean that Kanda wasn’t tempted.  
  
“You and Alma get close?”  
  
The question was piercing, and Kanda felt himself somewhat thrown off kilter by the question – which, while asked in a conversational tone held some sort of implied connotation.  Immediately, Kanda felt a desire to lie, and to tell Lavi otherwise.  But he faltered, and only scoffed.  “I don’t care for royals.”  
  
Lavi eyed Kanda carefully.  “I didn’t ask about how you felt about royals,” He stated, before shrugging.  “But if you don’t care for royals, then it shouldn’t be an issue if Alma goes back.”  
  
Kanda turned, somewhat abruptly.  Then, he looked away.  “It’s his decision.”  
  
“Yeah, and he’s possibly going to make a bad one,” Lavi pointed out, as he crossed his arms.  “Especially if he leaves with you guys…”  
  
To this, Kanda felt something hot burn through his veins.  The muscles in his body tensed, and his jaw clenched.  
  
Noticing the way Kanda was reacting, Lavi spoke again.  “Don’t act like it’s a personal dig.  But you should get why it’s important he goes back more than anyone,” Lavi pointed out, as his volume lowered, and his own gaze grew distant.  “Besides…people are people.  They want to be with what’s familiar to them.”  
  
This caused Kanda to look over, as a somewhat questioning look appeared within the coolness of his eyes.  
  
“Alma won’t be happy in the long run.  Not if he goes with you,” Lavi pointed out.  He returned his focus on Kanda, and met the other exorcist’s gaze.  “But if he thinks there’s something good waiting for him by leaving, he might try to be happy.  And it’s going to screw us all over.”  
  
Kanda’s body stiffened.  However, before he could say anything, Lavi moved, and opened the door to the house.    
  
“See you in the morning,” Lavi said, before shutting the door behind him.  
  
Kanda remained still.  In his mind, Lavi’s words burned like freshly lit embers.  
  
_“Alma won’t be happy in the long run.  Not if he goes with you.”  
  
“It’s going to screw us all over.”_  
  
Kanda clutched the hilt of Mugen, and he thought of Alma.  He thought of being close to Alma, and of holding Alma in his arms.   _‘Damn it…’_  
  
Not far off, several stems of lavender swayed in the garden – embraced by nothing but the cold darkness of night.

* * *

  
  
Alma was too awake to rest.  He was too awake to sleep.  
  
He was tired though – so tired.  Alma could hardly remember a night where he actually felt as though he had gotten some decent rest.  So much had happened, and it almost felt as though Alma were cursed never to sleep peacefully ever again.  If it wasn’t some hellish interruption, it was a nightmare, and if it wasn’t a nightmare…  
  
Alma stood, and started to pace around his room.  He had repeated this action for a while now – ever since he had come back upstairs.  A part of him had desperately wished that maybe Kanda would have come with him, but Kanda hadn’t, and Alma had ended up returning alone.  
  
Alma didn’t want to be alone.  
  
Exhaling, Alma wrung his hangs together anxiously before pausing to rub them over his face.  Lavi was there – god,  _Lavi was there._   Alma couldn’t deny that he had been thrilled to see Lavi in the woods; for so long, Alma had been  _desperate_  to see a familiar face.  He had wanted to see a friend.  But, now Lavi wanted Alma to go back with him to the castle, and to testify against what Sheril had done.  
  
Alma shuddered.  It was hypocritical – he had wanted to go back, so much that it had nearly killed him a few nights ago.  But now, Alma was wavering.  He was  _scared_.  It was one thing to dream of going back and to think that everything could go back to the way it was, but _now_ …  
  
Alma shook his head.  Now, if he went back, nothing would be the same.  Sheril had attempted to kill Alma.  He had staged it so that Alma would die, and so it could be blamed on Suman.   
  
Alma bit his lip, as his stomach lurched.   If he didn’t go back, then Suman….  
  
A wave of nausea fell over Alma, and he clamped his hands over his mouth.  Suman.  Suman’s family.  That was weighing on Alma, and if Alma didn’t go back, the sentence would be a death one.  Suman would be condemned.  
  
Suman. Klaud.  His  _mother-_  
  
His mother.  Lavi had said Tricia was a mess, and on top of that, she was still with Sheril.  What would happen with that if Alma went back?  A part of Alma – a terrified, fearful part – couldn’t help but worry that Sheril might be somehow prepared, and have some twisted, elaborate cover in place so that no one would believe Alma.  But could Alma really not go back, and allow for his mother to think he was  _dead_?  
  
Abruptly, Alma recalled being a child.  Being a small, seven-year-old boy when his father had passed away, and the way that grief had overtaken his mother like a wretched, hideous plague.  
  
Inside, Alma felt his heart crack.  
  
Alma paced some more, somewhat shakily.  Would he go with Lavi?  The thought of doing otherwise sent a flood of guilt coursing throughout him, but Alma felt something deep down resist.  His mind returned to the other exorcists; Alma had hardly been with them that long, and he knew that they didn’t expect him to leave with them.  Alma _knew_ this.  However, his thoughts soon returned to Kanda, and his heart screamed at the thought of saying goodbye to him.  
  
Alma thought of being held by Kanda, and he felt the urge to wrap his arms around himself.  It felt so cold and empty.   _‘I don’t…want to leave him…’_  
  
There was a knock at the door, and Alma looked up, somewhat startled.  He didn’t think that anyone else would have been awake at such an hour, but he went and opened the door, and saw that it was Kanda who had knocked.  
  
Instantly, Alma felt a rush of relief, desperate for some kind of comfort.  He quickly grabbed Kanda’s hand, and urged him to come inside.  “Yuu,” Alma spoke, words spilling out in a frantic rush, “Yuu, I don’t know what to do!”  
  
Kanda looked at Alma, brow furrowing slightly.  “What are you-“  
  
Alma tugged, and Kanda came inside, allowing for them to shut the door behind them.  Once this was done, Kanda looked at Alma.  His frown deepened when he saw how agitated Alma seemed.  “Alma-” Kanda started to say.  
  
Alma began speaking quickly.  He was still moving about the room, with a highly distressed energy about him.  “I just…I don’t  _know_ ,” Alma was going on.  “I don’t know what I’ll do if I go back, or what I’ll say, and  _Suman_ -“  
  
Alma cut off, as he took a shaky breath.  It was almost as though the more he spoke, the more overwhelmed he became.  One by one, the thoughts started to crash down on him, and the more Alma thought about the repercussions of everything, the more his emotions began to spiral.  
  
Kanda saw this – he would have been blind not too.  Instinctively, Kanda felt two conflicting tugs: one to snap, and the other to comfort.  Kanda could feel his whole body stiffen, as he tried to neutralize the sensation.  “ _Alma_ ,” Kanda spoke, trying to get the prince to at least calm for even a minute.    
  
The tone in which Kanda had spoken did something, for Alma stopped right there.  He looked at Kanda, eyes apologetic, as he realized what a mess he must have seemed.  Alma shook his head, and took another breath.  “I’m sorry, I just…” He trailed off, trying to keep himself composed.  “I don’t know what to do, and it’s terrible, because I should, but I just  _don’t_.”  
  
As Alma spoke, his voice trembled.  He felt horrible; like Lavi said, it  _shouldn’t_  have been a difficult decision.  Alma clearly needed to go back, and to do something, but he was wavering.   Every time he thought of returning, and of seeing his stepfather – each instant caused a needle of ice to pierce Alma, stinging and pricking him until he thought he would lose it entirely.  
  
And there was still…  
  
Alma looked at Kanda, and his expression was twisted into confusion.  “I know I need to go back, but-“  
  
“But what?”  
  
Alma stopped, and looked at Kanda, confused.  When he did so, he could see that Kanda was staring at him, with an oddly detached, cool gaze.  
  
Seeing he had Alma’s attention, Kanda spoke, as he looked off to the side. “Tch.  You just said you need to go back, but what?” He questioned.  “Seems kind of obvious what you should do...”  
  
This seemed to strike something within Alma, as silence gripped at his throat.  Kanda’s observation had been horribly blunt, and the directness was the kind that made Alma feel foolish about his own indecisiveness.  
  
A look of discomfort washed over Alma, and it was suddenly difficult to look at Kanda.  “I…I know…” Alma managed quietly, as something akin to defeat befell him.  So much was depending on if Alma made it back to the castle, and somewhere, deep down, Alma _knew_ he wouldn’t forgive himself for walking away from it.  To never go back, to never give his mother that peace of mind, to never do something to help Suman – the guilt would be too much on Alma’s conscience.  It would destroy him.  
  
And yet, Alma kept wavering.  
  
“I know I have to go back, but I just…” Alma tried to force, though the confession felt lodged in his chest, refusing to budge and to spill forward.   _‘I don’t want to never see you again…’_  
  
Kanda’s eyes moved back to Alma, frosted and strangely aloof.  There was a moment that passed, doused in silence and something painful – something that Kanda quickly buried down, and repressed.    
  
It would have been easier not to look at Alma.  Kanda knew this, but he forced himself to keep his eyes on him.    
  
“Go back with the Bookman,” Kanda said, voice low and steady.  Too steady.  
  
Alma turned back to Kanda, with legitimate surprise in his eyes.  His own insides seemed to twist, but he tried to ignore the sensation, as his gaze shifted over to the bed briefly.  “But…what about you…?”  
  
Kanda scoffed.  “What about me?  I don’t see how that should influence anything.”  
  
Confusion filled Alma, and his eyes warily returned to Kanda.  Again, it was difficult to make eye contact with the other exorcist directly, but Alma tried his best to do so – though he felt strained, and uneasy.  “I…just thought that we….”  
  
The events of the past few days seemed to replay in Alma’s mind.  Alma not being able to sleep, and Kanda letting him sleep in his room.  Kanda helping Alma by the well, and holding him.  Kanda kissing Alma in the woods.  Kanda lying beside Alma in bed, only  _hours_  ago…  
  
“It didn’t mean anything.”  
  
Ice filled Alma’s veins, and his heart felt as though it had halted beating briefly.   _‘What…?’_  
  
Before Alma could vocalize anything, Kanda spoke again.  “It didn’t mean anything, so just forget it happened.”  
  
Alma blinked, and struggled for words.  But breathing felt oddly difficult, and his whole chest suddenly ached.  “Yuu…you don’t meant that…”  
  
The words came out soft.  Soft like snow that threatened to melt into nothingness.  There was a faint tremor in them too, but it was so  _quiet_.  
  
Kanda met Alma’s gaze.  “Just go back already.”  
  
Alma felt as though he couldn’t move.  It was as though his feet were leaden, and his body had turned to stone – as though his heart had been consumed by some kind of basilisk, which only left petrified dust in its place.   _‘You don’t…really mean that…’_  
  
Alma wanted to say this.  He wanted to repeat his words, and to say something.  To say _anything_.  But his throat was dry, and everything suddenly hurt so much.  Suddenly there was so much pain inside Alma that he  _couldn’t_  speak – he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t  _breathe_ -  
  
Kanda said nothing more either.  His expression was stony, and his eyes – the dark, deep indigo that Alma had started to love so much – were unreachable.  Unattainable.  
  
Without speaking another word, Kanda turned, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.  
  
Alma stared.  For a fraction of a second, he hoped – he _hoped_ that Kanda would come back.  He hoped that Kanda would tell him it wasn’t true, and that it had meant something.  That it had meant something to Kanda, just as much as it had meant to Alma.   _‘Yuu…’_  
  
Kanda didn’t come back though.  
  
_‘It couldn’t have...’_  
  
Kanda didn’t come back, and Alma was alone.  
  
_‘It couldn’t have meant nothing…’_  
  
And like a fool, Alma realized that he had trusted the wrong person again.

* * *

  
In the darkness, yellow eyes watched.  They lingered on the house, and did not move.  
  
They lingered.  They watched.  They waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …..I’m sorry. >.<
> 
> This really hurt at the end - //really// hurt. Especially because at the beginning there were some soft moments between Kanda and Alma, and just, these two clearly care so much about each other it’s ridiculous. But the situation for them both sucks, and now that Lavi has come back, it’s not as though Alma can skip away with the other exorcists when he knows what’s going on back at the castle now.
> 
> And Lavi – I feel badly for him too. He really isn’t the bad guy, though I’m sure it’s coming across sort of shitty with what he says – both to Alma, and Kanda. But to be fair, Lavi isn’t in an easy place either: he’s a Bookman, and emotions aren’t supposed to get in the way. He knows how serious the situation has become, and how terrible it’ll be if Alma doesn’t go back to help straighten things out – so he’s under a lot of pressure, and is having to think about the bigger picture.
> 
> This is especially true, given Alma won’t necessarily do that. For anyone who’s been in a serious relationship, you know that the first time you really start to fall for a person it’s not like you’re always thinking clearly, and Alma is really struggling with that. It doesn’t help what with the added trauma of all he’s been through either.
> 
> Then, Kanda – Kanda already has so many issues with his own self-worth, and honestly? He probably does think that Alma will truly be better off going home. There’s the risk of Sheril, but the thing is that Alma is a royal, and has a birthright to return to – which, theoretically should protect him while also giving more merit to Alma’s word, and making the idea of Alma being able to do something more believable. And while Kanda is at times dense, he’s not /blind/ - he’s seen how badly Alma wants to go back, and Kanda didn’t miss how excited Alma was to see Lavi (mmm which, there may be a slight sense of insecurity and jealousy there?).
> 
> I wish I could say it gets better next chapter, but…ahaha. Yeah. Yeaaaah. >.> (You have been warned: more pain ahead.)
> 
> As a side note, I should still be able to get weekly updates in, but the next update may not be until next Saturday or Sunday given NanoWrimo is starting, and I’ll be doing that. (So ahhh forgive me if I miss an update! >.<)
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you liked the chapter!


	23. Poisoned Heart

It was a quiet morning at the house.  The air was still, and motionless.  Outside, it was soundless – even the gentle falling of the leaves, dried and colored by autumn, were soft in their volume.   
  
One by one, they fell.  Gold.  Orange.  Red.  Beautiful colors that fell onto and earth that was beginning to brown, and beneath a sky that was again somewhat overcast: a clash of gray, with vibrant colors and remnants of green grass, and brown earth.  
  
Alma watched.  He had been watching the leaves for a bit that morning, which were so pretty as they danced down onto the earth.  A pretty distraction.  
  
He moved slightly.  Alma had had pulled up a chair to where it was right by the window, so he could lean forward as he rested his elbows on the window sill.  He wasn’t quite sure how long he stayed there for, but Alma hardly moved.  Occasionally, a breath of cool air would brush by his face, as he had opened the windows so he could peer out.  His bangs swayed slightly, and the air kissed his flesh.  
  
_“It didn’t mean anything.”_  
  
There was a hitch in Alma’s breath, and for a moment he held it.  But Alma forced himself to release it the moment he realized what he was doing.  
  
Somewhere inside, Alma felt a sting.  
  
_“It didn’t mean anything, so just forget it happened.”_  
  
_‘Forget that…that it…’_ Alma thought – _tried to_ think.  However, the thought was too painful even to fully formulate, and Alma immediately shut it down, as he attempted to once again focus on outside.  
  
Leaves.  Falling.  Colors.  Fading.  
  
Fading.  Just _fading_.  
  
There was a knock at the door – a polite, yet firm rap.  Alma didn’t say anything, but turned his head slightly just to see the door push open.   
  
Standing there, was Lavi, slouched slightly against the frame.  There was a seemingly laid back expression painted onto his face, however the small bag beneath his visible eye indicated a lack of rest.  Still, his demeanor and tone were casual – almost as though everything was normal.  Completely, perfectly normal.  
  
“So,” Lavi asked. “Get any rest last night?”  
  
Alma paused, and his eyes shifted away from Lavi.  By chance, they happened to pass over the lavender stems that had remained by Alma’s pillow – now dry, and weak in their scent.   
  
Alma shrugged.  “Not really….”  
  
A flicker in Lavi’s eye – something fleeting, and that vaguely resembled concern.  However, it was repressed quickly, and once more Lavi’s face was constructed of the utmost neutrality.   
  
Lavi exhaled.  “Did you decide on what you want to do?” He asked as he leaned back against the door frame, as he looked off to the side.  
  
“I’ll go back.”  
  
The response came more quickly than Lavi seemed to have expected, and he looked back at Alma, with faint surprise on his face.  
  
Alma wasn’t facing Lavi though, and was looking out the window again.  As his blue eyes gazed outward, there was an oddly distant look in them.  “I’ll go back with you, so…don’t worry,” Alma continued, words soft.  “I’m not going with the others, so…”  
  
Alma trailed off after that, and Lavi stared.  At some point, his mouth had shifted into a small, faint frown, and his gaze was observing.  
  
Lavi said nothing for several moments, and only watched the prince.  
  
Finally, Lavi spoke.  “Alright then,” He said, as he stood more upright.  “Guess I’ll let the others know.”  
  
Lavi didn’t wait for a response, and Alma could hear the other young man leave.  Alma didn’t chance turning around though, and continued to stare out the window a bit longer, eyes yearning and filled with something painful – and lonely.  
  
_“Just go back already.”  
  
_ When Alma finally left the room, the dried lavender stems remained.

* * *

  
  
“You decided to return then?”  
  
Alma nodded, as he sat beside Lavi.  Across from them at the kitchen table were Tiedoll and Marie.  Daisya was also present, though he was standing and leaning back against the wall – and beside him, was Kanda.  
  
With this in mind, Alma was careful not to look in Kanda’s direction.  
  
Tiedoll nodded, as understanding filled his eyes.  “I see,” He said, though Tiedoll didn’t say much else at first.  There was clearly something on his mind though, and the other exorcists also seemed wary.  The air in the room also seemed to hold a level of unspoken tension, which did not go unnoticed by Alma or Lavi.  Especially Lavi.  
  
Expression oddly serious, Lavi looked at Tiedoll as he leaned back in the chair.  “Don’t worry.  It likely won’t get back to the royals you’ve been out here – not for a while at least,” Lavi said.  For once, much of the casual nature of his speech had diminished, and there was an oddly cool edge to his voice.  “When we go back, we’re going to just play it off like Alma found somewhere abandoned to hide out in for the time being.”  
  
As Lavi spoke, Alma could feel several pairs of eyes on him, but he kept his gaze downcast.  He and Lavi had already spoken about this briefly, before talking to everyone else, and he had agreed to it.  Alma didn’t want the other exorcists to get caught or wrongfully blamed for anything else.  
  
Alma was a terrible liar, but he would just have to manage somehow.  
  
“It’s much appreciated,” Tiedoll said, in acknowledgement to the reassurance that the exorcists would at least have some time to get a head start on leaving.  And hopefully going unnoticed for a while longer.  
  
“Yeah, well just make sure you guys get going soon,” Lavi warned.  “I don’t know if this will happen, but when we go back they may send more guards and CROWs out this way to inspect the area.  You never know.”  
  
Marie nodded as well in understand, but then he angled his face toward Alma slightly.  “You’ll be alright going back?” He questioned softly.  
  
The question, although polite, carried more weight to it than normal.  Alma thus tensed a bit, as the inquiry sank in.  Several things flashed through Alma’s mind: Sheril, Road, having to speak against them both – it chilled and terrified him, and more than anything Alma wanted to run from it all.  
  
But Alma also thought of Suman.  Of Klaud.  Of his mother.  
  
Looking back at Marie, Alma nodded.  “Yeah,” He said, and despite the circumstances, Alma fought to manage a tiny hint of a smile – one that should have been reassuring, but if anything was strained.  “I can’t…really turn a blind eye to this one…”  
  
The words, although true, felt strangely forced.  Inside Alma’s chest, something clenched painfully.  
  
Tiedoll looked at Alma, and there was a hint of concern in his eyes.  “Do your best to be safe.  Sheril will doubtlessly try something once he realizes what you’re doing.”  
  
Although given in good will, the warning sent a shiver throughout Alma.  
  
Lavi spoke.  “Once we get there, we’ll be able to use the security to our advantage.  We just need to get to Queen Tricia and talk to her before anything else happens,” He explained, before glancing over at Alma.  “Shouldn’t be too hard – she’s pretty desperate to know you’re alive at this point.”  
  
Alma nodded.  “Right...” He said, eyes still a bit averted.   
  
Desperate.  Tricia was desperate because she thought Alma was probably dead somewhere.  The thought alone caused a fresh wave of guilt to befall Alma.  
  
A bit hesitantly, Alma looked up, and glanced over at Marie and Tiedoll.  “Are you guys going to be okay?”  
  
Although Alma had been looking more so at Marie and Tiedoll, it was Daisya who answered.  “Sure we will.  Living life on the edge is kind of our thing.”  
  
Instinctively, Alma’s attention moved to Daisya, but his gaze accidentally landed on Kanda.  Kanda was looking off to the side though, completely detached and aloof in his appearance.  Alma couldn’t tell if this made him feel better or worse, but he turned his focus away all the same.  
  
Lavi glanced toward Alma warily, then returned his attention back to the other exorcists.  “We really should be leaving soon.  Better to not wait around.”  
  
Tiedoll nodded.  “As should we,” He acknowledged, before looked at Alma. There was a small smile on his face.  “We’ll miss having you around.”  
  
To this, Alma tried to smile back – but inside he ached, and Alma knew that he had somehow grown too attached already.   The smile was weak as a result, and Alma’s bright eyes seemed to lack the light that they normally had.  
  
Suddenly, Kanda moved.  He didn’t speak or make any kind of comment, but abruptly he started off, walking out of the kitchen.  
  
There was a pause, and no one spoke – though there was a frown on Daisya’s face as he watched where Kanda had gone off to.  
  
Lavi broke the silence, and looked at Alma, and spoke, his voice oddly soft.  “Get anything you need together.  We really need to go.”  
  
Alma mutely nodded.  He had inevitably gotten distracted by Kanda’s sudden departure, but tried desperately not to let his gaze linger on where the other exorcist had gone to.  
  
Tiedoll turned to Marie.  “We need to do the same.  The sooner we leave, the better.”  
  
Marie nodded in response.  
  
As for Daisya, he was unusually quiet.  Without saying anything, he also left the kitchen, and went off in the same direction that Kanda had gone.  
  
With everyone beginning to disperse, Alma turned to Lavi.  His eyes somewhat avoidant of making any direct eye contact, he spoke.  “Hey, I…think I need to step outside for a bit,” Alma said, words quiet and somewhat hesitant.  “I just…need some air.”  
  
Lavi looked back at Alma, and for a moment, the composure of his expression seemed to fault.  A twitch of the corner of his mouth threatened to fall into a frown, and something almost guilty flickered about in his one visible iris.  But, Lavi strained, and within seconds the emotion was contained.  
  
“Go ahead,” Lavi said, before adding with a slight smile, “Just don’t wander off on me or anything.”  
  
Alma didn’t say anything back though, and quickly stood.  Before anyone could catch him, the prince then rushed out the back door, and disappeared outside.

* * *

  
  
Kanda didn’t have much to begin with.  He never had.  
  
Still, Kanda didn’t care.  If anyone asked, he would lie, and just say he had needed to get some things together before leaving – which, Kanda supposed wasn’t _entirely_ false.  But a few changes of old clothes and a knife for gardening hardly counted as much.  
  
Kanda glanced around the room.  It had only had the bare minimum to begin with, yet now when Kanda looked at it the room felt even emptier than before.  Not that Kanda had much of an attachment to it – he had only slept in that room for a little less than two years, and even with that in mind Kanda had always known deep down that it was temporary.  His life was one of hiding.  Of running.  
  
It would never stop.  
  
After a moment, Kanda turned, stepping out of the room. There was no reason for him to linger, and he needed to see if the others would be ready to leave.  At this point, the sooner they left, the better.   
  
Kanda paused as soon as he passed by the room that Alma had been staying it.  
  
It was empty, of course – like all of the other rooms soon would be.   The bed was made, and everything was just as Kanda had seen it last.  
  
The exception was the dried lavender on the bed.  
  
Kanda stared, and for a moment he found himself recalling the last time he had gone in there.  Inside, something sharp and icy pierced him; he reflected briefly, and before he could stop himself Kanda found himself recalling speaking to Alma.  
  
Brushing everything off.  Saying it was nothing.  Telling him to leave.  
  
There was an acidic taste in Kanda’s mouth.  He had hated every second of the experience, and he had hated himself even more for seeing it through – he hated himself for it, and he hated himself for hurting Alma.  Too easily, Kanda could remember the look on Alma’s face: confused and _heartbroken_ …  
  
Kanda attempted to get a hold of himself.  It was better this way.  Alma wasn’t meant for a life on the run.  Kanda might have fallen to his own desires in a stupidly reckless way, but he still wasn’t blind.  Kanda hadn’t missed the longing and wistful look in Alma’s eyes whenever the topic of his childhood home was brought up, or the vibrant excitement Alma had demonstrated when they had crossed paths with Lavi.  Alma clearly wanted to go back, and had even said such.  
  
If Alma had a chance to do anything about Sheril, and to live his own life, then Kanda knew that was how it needed to be.  
  
Still, this did nothing to ease the pain Kanda felt: bitter, scathing, grating.  It ripped and tore at him gently, and a rush of anger threatened to befall Kanda.  He resented the way things had turned out, in so many ways, and he resented himself for being stupid enough to _fall_ for someone like Alma.   
  
Kanda could have laughed at himself.  How bitterly ironic it was that he would fall for a _royal_ of all people.  
  
Alma would get over it, though – Kanda was sure of that.  The prince would be fine, and once things got situated however they would, Alma could go back with Lavi to some damn castle, and Alma would live a happy, comfortable life.  One that didn’t require secrecy and lying.  Alma would be back home, and happy, and eventually find someone else who _wasn’t_ wanted for treason.  
  
_‘It’s better that way,’_ Kanda thought.   _‘It’ll be better for him to go back, and deal with things…’_  
  
“You know he’s still here if you want to talk to him.”  
  
Kanda turned sharply.  When he did, he saw it was Daisya who had approached him – although, the other exorcist wasn’t wearing his usual, mischievous smirk.  Instead, his expression was more contemplative, and Daisya nodded his head back toward the room.  
  
“I mean Alma,” Daisya pointed out.  “If you want to talk to him.”  
  
Kanda sneered quietly under his breath.  “I have nothing to say to him.”  
  
“Yeah?  Kind of hard to believe when you’ve just been staring into that room for who knows how long.”  
  
Kanda just glared at Daisya coldly.  
  
Daisya sighed in an exasperated manner.  “The others might not have noticed yet, but come on – you _clearly_ have a thing for him.  Might as well say what you want before you guys split.”  
  
The icy look remained, but Kanda turned his gaze away sharply.  Speaking somewhat stiffly, he changed the subject.  “Got everything you need?”  
  
Daisya nodded.  “Yeah.  Traveling light as always.”  
  
Kanda spoke, quickly starting back downstairs before Daisya could try to say anymore.  “Let’s go then.”

* * *

  
  
Inside, Alma had felt suffocated.  Stifled.  Overwhelmed.  He had felt as though there was a dam inside him threatening to break at any moment, and had Alma remained inside any longer he knew he might have broken.  And Alma couldn’t be broken right now – he couldn’t afford it, and he _needed_ to be strong.  
  
For once, Alma needed to be strong.  Even if he felt like nothing more than a small blade of grass, threatening to succumb to a violent wind at any given moment.  
  
Coming outside hadn’t offered Alma much relief.  Uncertainty and unease seemed to clutch at him, refusing to let Alma go and give him a moment of peace.   He wasn’t even sure how he had managed to try to put on a face, and act like he was fine – Alma was anything but.  
  
Go back.  Confront Sheril.  Tell his mother what had happened.  It was the right thing to do, and Alma knew that.  Yet something inside him continued to squirm and agonize over it all, and deep down there was a cry of protest.  
  
Alma realized that he was selfish for feeling this way – selfish, and cowardly.  He needed to get a grip on things already, and to figure out what he would even say when he did make it back.   
  
_‘You have to go back,’_ Alma reminded himself. _‘You can’t run away from this, and you have to know what to_ say- _‘_  
  
Alma wavered though, as his mind threatened to think back to Kanda.  Alma tried to fight it.  
  
It didn’t mean anything.  It was nothing.  That was what Kanda had said, and therefore Alma was foolish to think otherwise.  
  
Alma released a breath, and rubbed his arm.  His hand briefly traced over the silver bracer, with Alma’s fingers tracing along the oddly smooth, glass-like texture.   
  
Someone opened the back door, and came outside.  Alma turned, expecting it to be Lavi, but he was surprised when he saw that it was Tiedoll.  
  
Tiedoll walked over to where Alma was.  “Thought I’d try to catch you before you head off.”  
  
Alma shifted a little.  “It feels sort of weird getting ready to go back…”  
  
“I can imagine, after everything that’s happened,” Tiedoll acknowledged.  He paused, as he looked at Alma with a small smile.  “I’m sure your mother and you friends will be happy to know you’re alright.  You’ll be doing a good thing too.”  
  
Alma nodded weakly, although he appreciated that Tiedoll was at least focusing on something positive about going back to the castle.  Still, the thought was daunting, and Alma at the very least was grateful that he would be traveling with Lavi.  It would be nice to at least have one friend for company.  
  
Still…  
  
A bit warily, Alma spoke.  “Do you…think you’ll ever be able to stop hiding?” Alma asked, as his gaze was casted off sideways.  “It’s not fair…you all having to live like this when you didn’t do anything…”  
  
To this, Tiedoll gave no immediate response.  His eyes were thoughtful though.  “Mm.  It’s not an ideal way of life, but it’s doable.  Maybe one day if things change we won’t have to,” He acknowledged.  “It is what it is though.  We knew what we were getting ourselves into.”  
  
Turning, Tiedoll looked back at Alma, as he continued with a small, weary smile.  “Don’t worry so much about us though.  You’ll have more than enough on your plate already.”  
  
Again, Alma nodded.  He had intended to at the very least manage a small verbal response, but his throat felt dry, and the words didn’t come.  
  
Tiedoll looked over, eyes soft.  “Did you get everything you need?”  
  
Alma forced himself to answer.  “Yeah,” He said, before offering a meek smile.  “There wasn’t much or anything.  I just need to check in with Lavi.”  
  
“Would you like me to let him know you’re out here?”  
  
Alma shook his head.  “No, it’s okay.  I let him know earlier,” He answered.  
  
Tiedoll nodded in understanding.  “Well, I’ll be inside – let me know if you need anything.”  
  
As Tiedoll started back inside, a thought tugged at Alma.  Somewhat impulsively, Alma stopped Tiedoll.  “Ah, Tiedoll!” Alma called, causing the man to stop walking.  He looked at Alma with an inquiring gaze.  
  
Alma hesitated, and looked off to the side a bit nervously.  He had to fight the urge to fidget with his fingers.  “Um…do you know where Yuu went?”  
  
Tiedoll blinked, and looked at Alma curiously.  “I’m not sure where he went off to – did you need to speak with him about something?”  
  
Alma paused, and shook his head.  “No…no, I was just wondering…”  
  
There was a knowing look that appeared in Tiedoll’s face, as he took in the notably disappointed edge to Alma’s voice.  “It seems you two have gotten closer, hasn’t it?” He spoke, though it was something of a rhetorical question.  “I can let him know you asked where he was if you’d like.”  
  
Once more, Alma found himself hesitating.  But, his heartstrings tugged tightly, and something inside yearned for Tiedoll to do as he had offered.  Because of this, Alma was unable to refuse, and he nodded his head.  
  
Tiedoll offered a final, gentle smile.  “I’ll see if I can find him,” He said, before heading back into the house.  
  
Alma exhaled, as he was once more left alone.  He didn’t know if Kanda would actually care to talk to him, or hear what he had to say – and Alma didn’t know if Tiedoll saying anything would make much of a difference.  If anything, it just might annoy Kanda even more.  
  
However, Alma couldn’t deny that he was… hopeful.  Pitifully hopeful, really, not that Alma knew why.  Kanda didn’t seem to view whatever moments he and Alma had shared as all that important, but even so… _Alma_ viewed them as important.  And Alma wanted to tell Kanda that.  
  
Even if Kanda really didn’t care, Alma wanted to tell him.  At least before he left.  
  
_‘I’ll never see him again after today,’_ Alma thought, as another sharp stab of pain entered into his chest.  _‘If I could at least…tell him…’_  
  
A breeze brushed by, and a faint, floral scent reached Alma.  He turned, as his attention moved over to the small garden beside the house – the one that Kanda tended to.  A few herbs remained, as well as some lavender stems.  
  
Alma walked over to the garden, and knelt down.  The scent of the lavender was the strongest, and seemed to pull him in like a comforting lullaby.  Transfixed, Alma reached out to brush his fingers against the small, purple blossoms – which were soft and delicate against his touch.  
  
Eyes contemplative, Alma’s fingers rested on the lower part of the stem.  Then, he plucked it.  _‘I’ll just take one-‘_  
  
There was a shift of a shadow on the ground, and Alma paused.  He stood quickly, and turned.  
  
Kanda was there.  
  
Alma stiffened a little, and felt his cheeks grow hot as he clutched the lavender stem.  “Sorry – I was only taking one, and I probably should have asked-“ He started to say, feeling awkward and uncomfortable.  
  
Kanda remained calm though, as his eyes flickered to the stem briefly.  “It’s fine,” He spoke, words low and even.  
  
Kanda said nothing more, and Alma fingered the lavender stem, somewhat anxiously.  Like earlier, Alma felt inclined to avoid looking at Kanda directly, but he attempted to speak all the same.  “Yuu…about last night,” Alma forced out, as he did his best to speak.  With some difficulty, he managed to allow himself to make eye contact with Kanda.  “I know that…that it didn’t mean anything to you, with the last few days, but I’m _confused_.  You act one way, then another, and you…you just can’t keep _doing that_!”  
  
There was silence, and Alma realized that he had started to lose his composure.  The words had come out suddenly, like a rush of water, and the more he spoke the more Alma realized how _hurt_ he was.  How sad.  How angry.  Alma didn’t understand how Kanda could have spoken so softly to him at one moment, and then not even an hour later completely cut him off.  
  
It was cruel, and it was unfair.  And it was confusing.  
  
Alma took a breath, and tried to calm himself.  He realized, even in his hurt, that he had been accusatory, but it was difficult not to be.  “I just don’t understand…can’t you tell me why?  You act like you care one minute, and then it’s like you just don’t!  Is it something I did?”  
  
By now, Alma was sure he was losing a hold on his emotions even more – a terrible flaw, really.  How was Kanda supposed to take him seriously when he was just blabbering on like a complete idiot?  The more Alma went on, the more frustrated he became too – why was it so difficult to just get a straight answer from Kanda?  
  
Kanda stared, and hardly anything seemed to show in his eyes.  It was strangely blank: not a hint of remorse, or even annoyance.   
  
This only incensed Alma, and the prince finally snapped.  “Yuu, can’t you say _anything_!?”  
  
“Let’s go for a walk.”  
  
The suggestion came so gently, that it caused Alma’s thoughts to draw to a halt all together.  Bewilderment filled his eyes, and he blinked.  “What?” Alma asked, not sure if he even had heard the words correctly.  
  
Kanda just looked at Alma though, he his words remained soft.  “Let’s go for a walk, and just get away from everything for bit.”  
  
Alma’s brow pinched together, and he looked away, face flushed from how upset he had been getting.  “Lavi’s going to be looking for me,” Alma found himself arguing.  “I…shouldn’t go anywhere.  He and I have to leave soon-“  
  
“Alma.”  
  
Alma paused, as he felt Kanda’s hand graze the side of his cheek, causing him to turn his face toward Kanda.  As this occurred, Alma’s eyes met Kanda’s – which seemed a shade darker than normal.  Alma’s heart skipped a beat all the same, as he heard Kanda’s next few words.  
  
“Just take a walk with me?” Kanda requested, words low and firm.  
  
Alma felt his resolve melt.  It was so hard to deny the request, even with the pain that Kanda had caused him.  Even with the pain, Alma could not help but yearn for a few moments alone with him – especially, if Alma would never get a chance to see Kanda again.  
_  
‘Just…one last time together…’_  
  
Swallowing, Alma nodded.  “Okay…” He said, as a tremor of uncertainty remained in his voice.  “I just can’t be gone long…”  
  
Kanda said nothing to this.  But, before anything could delay them, he took Alma’s hand, and led the prince off into the woods.

* * *

  
  
Lavi watched.  He had been outside earlier, though he had been around at the front of the house.  Lavi had just walked around toward the back, only to catch a small glimpse of Alma and Kanda together.  He was still a bit away, just around by the corner and unable to determine what exactly it was they were saying.  However, the moment looked intimate – quiet, and as though it warranted privacy.  
  
Then, Kanda and Alma started to walk off together.  
  
For a moment, Lavi debated on what to do.  A part of him was tempted to intervene, and to get Alma since they really needed to leave.  But then, there was another part of Lavi that immediately was against the idea.  Lavi didn’t know all of the details yet, but there was evidently something going on between Alma and Kanda, and whatever it was, it seemed to have been causing Alma more agony than the prince was willing to admit.  
  
With this in mind, Lavi pulled back.  Surely he could afford to let them have a few last moments together.  He could surely give them that much.

* * *

  
  
When Kanda and Daisya came downstairs, it was only Marie in the living room area.  He looked as though he had anything he needed together, which like for Kanda and Daisya, was minimal.  Everyone essentially had reduced it to the bare necessities, which would hopefully make traveling all the easier.  
  
Still, Daisya asked.  “Got everything together? Going to be a fun road trip ahead.”  
  
Marie nodded.  
  
Kanda glanced around, then back toward Marie.  “Where’s Tiedoll?”  
  
Marie thought.  “I think he stepped outside a few minutes ago…”  
  
Kanda sighed.  “We really need to get a move on…” He grumbled, not sure what it was that Tiedoll would be preoccupied with in a time such as this.  
  
Just at that moment, Tiedoll walked into the room.  His eyes immediately landed on Kanda, before he walked over.  “Kanda, I need to speak with you.”  
  
Kanda’s attention was caught, and he frowned.  There was something in Tiedoll’s tone that Kanda felt an immediate aversion to, and he couldn’t help but be suspicious of whatever it was that Tiedoll wanted to speak with him about.  “About what?” Kanda asked.  
  
Tiedoll had waited until he was beside Kanda, and he spoke quietly. “Alma was outside.  I think he wanted to speak with you-“  
  
Annoyance flared within Kanda, and he sighed in aggravation.  “I don’t know why,” Kanda responded somewhat defensively.  “We don’t have anything to talk about.”  
  
Tiedoll frowned a bit.  “Kanda-“  
  
Someone else could be heard coming into the living room area, causing Tiedoll to momentarily stop.  When everyone looked though, they saw it was Lavi.  
  
Lavi briefly glanced around, but it only took a second for his focus to fall on Kanda also.  Then, a flash of confusion appeared on his face, and he looked around again, before focusing back on Kanda.  “Um…where’s Alma?” He asked, directing his question at Kanda specifically.  
  
Kanda, who was quickly losing his patience, snapped.  “Why the hell does everyone keep asking me about him?  I don’t know where he is.”  
  
Lavi only looked more perplexed, and scowled.  “Um, hello?  Yeah, you were just with him like…two minutes ago outside?” Lavi asked, not sure why Kanda was acting like he hadn’t seen Alma.  Lavi had _just_ watched them walk off together.  
  
Actually…  
  
“Wait, how did you already get inside?  You guys were walking away from the house!” Lavi pointed out.  
  
Kanda’s mouth fell open, and he shut it.  Then, he quickly gathered himself as he glared at Lavi.  “You’re fucking losing it – I haven’t even been outside!”  
  
Daisya frowned, and looked back at Lavi as well.  “I’m going to have to vouch for Kanda, here – we were _just_ upstairs.  There’s no way you saw him outside.”  
  
“What?  No way, that can’t be possible!” Lavi argued.  “I mean, not unless it was someone who _looked_ like Kanda.”  
  
At that moment, everyone in the room fell silent, and everything seemed to click.  
  
Lavi’s eye widened.  “Shit…” He started, before turning and bolting back outside.  
  
Kanda stared for a beat of a second, momentarily shocked as the realization also hit him.  
  
Alma was with someone else.  Alma had _walked off with someone else_.  
  
Before he could lose Lavi, Kanda ran after him.

* * *

  
  
Alma didn’t know where Kanda was leading him, but they were going farther than he had anticipated.  
  
He looked around.  They were a bit a way’s out from the house, hidden within in the woods.   Alma didn’t  _think_  they had completely bypassed the seal marks, but at the same time Alma knew they had to have been close – too close, really.  The thought made Alma uneasy.  He knew it was inevitable he would have to go through the woods, but Alma couldn’t say it was something he was opting to do all that willingly.  
  
Alma looked at Kanda.  Kanda had hardly spoken, with his hand still firmly holding Alma’s.  “Yuu?” Alma started to ask, somewhat warily.  “Where are we going…?  This is kind of far-“  
  
Kanda turned, and his eyes peered back at Alma.  Expression still calm, he answered.  “Just for a walk,” He said, repeating what he had spoken earlier.    
  
A confused frown appeared on Alma’s face.  The vagueness of the answer was strange, and the tone was eerily  _tranquil_  – Kanda didn’t sound like how he usually did.  And it was making Alma uneasy.  
  
Alma promptly stopped walking, causing Kanda to stop as well.  “I want to go back,” Alma said, tone firm despite the slight shakiness of his voice.  “We’re too far out.”  
  
Kanda’s attention returned to Alma.  There was something in his eyes – something that Alma couldn’t quite put a name to.  But it was peculiar, and Alma felt himself stiffen a bit.  
  
Kanda took Alma’s hand.  Alma could feel Kanda’s fingers – a little rough, and cold – trace along his skin.  “Do you not trust me?”  
  
Again, Kanda spoke softly, and it caused Alma to still.  The question was simple, yet for whatever reason Alma felt himself struggling to answer.  He _had_ trusted Kanda – Kanda had been there for Alma, and had even saved him.  Kanda had comforted Alma, and they had…  
  
Abruptly, Alma recalled the previous night, and the way Kanda had so suddenly shut Alma out.  Alma turned his face away, and with a sting in his chest pulled his hand back.  “You’re acting weird…” Alma murmured, feeling more lost by the second.  “Yuu, let’s just go back.  Everyone will be wondering where we went, and I don’t want to worry anyone-“  
  
The reasoning didn’t seem to reach Kanda, and he cut Alma off.  “They’ll be fine.”  
  
Alma turned back to Kanda, and his frown deepened.  Then, Alma averted his gaze so he wasn’t making direct eye contact.  “Why did you want to come out here?  Last night, you said…”  
  
Alma trailed off, as he painfully recalled what Kanda had said.  He took a small breath, and forced himself to finish the statement aloud.  “You…said this didn’t mean anything…”  
  
“That was a lie.”  
  
The confession threw Alma off completely, and he turned back to Kanda quickly.  “What?”  
  
Kanda’s eyes locked with Alma’s, once more, Alma found himself pulled in hypnotically.  “It was a lie,” Kanda repeated lowly.  “I was…angry.  I wasn’t thinking when I said that.”  
  
Alma remained frozen, as Kanda’s words melted into his ear – like soft satin and rich velvet.  The uncertainty remained within Alma, but his heart yearned to take in those words.  It bit frustrating – Alma wanted to stand his ground.  He felt hurt, and he wanted Kanda to understand that.  But, Alma could already feel himself beginning to cave, and fall prey to the longing of just _hearing_ such a confession.  
  
Sensing the crack in Alma’s resolve, Kanda once more took Alma’s hand, as he rested another on the prince’s shoulder.  “I just wanted your last moments out here to be special…especially if we never see each other again…”  
  
At that moment, Alma could feel himself break.  His hand curled into Kanda’s, while he held the lavender flower in his other hand.    
  
Alma leaned in, unable to help himself.  “I…was so worried you meant that…” He murmured, words softer than gossamer and incredibly faint.  “I really…I really am going to miss you.  And I just wish…”  
  
_‘I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye to you…’_  Alma thought, as his heart seemed to sink.  
  
Kanda pulled Alma in, and held him for a moment.  Then, his eyes looked off to the side, and he pulled back.  “Let’s go sit down for a bit – you didn’t get much sleep last night.”  
  
Alma nodded, and followed Kanda over to a nearby fallen log.  There, the two of them sat down beside each other, with Alma actually grateful for the moment of rest.  Like Kanda had pointed out, Alma really hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, and he could feel the effects of it.   
  
As they sat beside each other, Alma’s eyes moved over to Kanda a bit hesitantly.  “Do you…think we’ll ever see each other again?”  
  
Kanda shifted, and his eyes met Alma’s.  There was a mild hint of intrigue in his eyes.  
  
Alma moved a bit again, and looked away.  “I guess I was thinking…if anything changed maybe you could…”  
  
A hand was placed over Alma’s, causing him to quiet once more.  Alma turned, and looked back at Kanda.  
  
“Don’t worry so much about it,” Kanda advised.  “You’ll wear yourself out, and have enough to deal with.”  
  
Alma’s face fell a bit.  He knew Kanda was right – he  _did_ have a lot to deal with, and everything was so draining.  Alma wasn’t sure how he would be able to handle things when he returned back to the castle, and the thought of such sent a shiver throughout him.   _‘It’s so much…’_  
  
Kanda watched carefully.  “Hey,” He spoke, as he took something out.  Alma couldn’t tell what it was at first – he hadn’t even noticed Kanda carrying anything with him.  But when Alma looked, he could see it was a bright red apple.  
  
“Here,” Kanda said, before gently tossing it to Alma.  “You should eat something before you deplete yourself.”  
  
Alma caught it, somewhat surprised.  Then, his eyes lit up a bit, and he looked at Kanda with a smile.  “I haven’t had apples since I was back home!  I didn’t know you had them out here.”  
  
Kanda shrugged, and looked forward.  “Your Bookman friend brought a few with him.  So I got you one.”  
  
Alma’s smile softened.  “Thanks,” He said, before a slightly inquisitive look appeared in his eyes.  “Do you want to share it with me?”  
  
Kanda continue to keep his gaze elsewhere, and his expression was distant.  “I don’t like apples.”  
  
There was a somewhat dismissive way to how Kanda spoke, and Alma was once more a little thrown off.  Like earlier, there was a strange tickle at the base of his spine – but Alma tried to ignore it.  Kanda _could_ be moody, and perhaps he really didn’t like apples.  “Oh, okay,” Alma said, trying to do his best to sound casual.  He then offered a hesitant smile.  “I’ll just enjoy it for you then.  I didn’t eat yet today, so this is great.”  
  
To this, Kanda said nothing – not until after Alma had bitten into the apple.   
  
“It’s sweet how blindingly trusting you can be…” Kanda spoke, his voice in an oddly quiet murmur.  
  
Alma froze, as the words reached his ears.  They were chillingly familiar, and Alma felt a strange sense of déjà vu – one that made his insides churn uneasily, as he strained to recall where he had heard something similar.  
  
_Sheril sighed, as he sat across from Alma.  His eyes, dark and piercing as always, seared straight into Alma’s sky blue irises like two toxic pieces of obsidian.  “It’s sweet how blindingly trusting and idealistic you can be…”_  
  
There was a flare of anxiousness and Alma shifted.  He had only taken one bite of the apple, but his appetite was lost, and he stood.  “I have to go back,” He said, words rushed.  However, before Alma could leave, there was a sudden wave of dizziness that befell him, causing Alma to hesitate.  He tried to steady himself, and as Alma attempted this, a hand grabbed his wrist roughly.  
  
Alma turned, and saw that Kanda had also stood.  His expression was still distantly cool, and he looked at Alma with dark eyes.  “That’s not necessary.”  
  
In that moment, Alma heard it: the icy tone, and the lack of feeling.  It was the voice of something darker, and something that reminded Alma very much of winter – dead, and without a trace of warmth.  It was terribly unsettling, and nothing like how Kanda had ever sounded.  Kanda could be harsh and have a temper, but he was never like this.  He had too much fire, and too much emotion.  And Kanda would _never_ …  
  
Like a heavy weight, the realization slammed into Alma.  Quickly, he yanked his hand out of Kanda’s grasp, and dropping the apple Alma activated his innocence in a swift motion, and pulled back the string, ready to aim.  
  
Kanda stared, completely unfazed by this.  
  
Alma didn’t move, but kept the string pulled back.  As he did this, his hand trembled slightly.  “You’re not Yuu,” He spoke, voice low and tense.  
  
Kanda smiled, his face devoid of any kindness or shred of warmth.  “How smart you are,” He said.  “Still not smart enough.”  
  
A bit in the distance, Alma could hear something – the sound of someone shouting, and calling someone’s name – Alma’s name.  For a moment, it caused his focus to break, and he turned his head slightly in the direction of the voice.  _‘Yuu…?’_  
  
It was a horrible error.  
  
The moment Alma’s attention was divided, he was overpowered, and shoved against a tree.  Alma winced, as the wind was briefly knocked out of him.  When he looked, Alma could see that Kanda – or whoever it really was – was pinning him against a tree, using only his bare hand as he clasped it about Alma’s neck.  
  
Alma gritted his teeth, and grabbed at the hand.  However, as he did this, his surroundings unexpectedly blurred, and everything seemed to sway as the dizziness returned.  Alma tried to shake his head a bit, and clamped his eyes shut.  
  
The Kanda look-alike only peered at Alma.  “Don’t bother trying to keep your eyes open much longer,” He said.   “It’ll be much easier to give in.”  
  
Eyes still shut, Alma took a breath.  He felt foggy-headed, and his muscles felt like liquid – weak, and difficult to keep from collapsing.  “What…what did you…”  
  
The Kanda look alike smiled, and his eyes flashed to a molten gold shade. “I’ll give your regards to your stepfather.”  
  
Alma opened his eyes, and they widened when he saw the sharp, golden irises – bright, and cat-like staring into his own.  _‘Those eyes…’_  
  
Suddenly, there was a sound, and the Kanda double’s attention was broken.  Then, without warning, there was a large gust of wind: powerful, and one that might have easily caused Alma to fall had he not already been pressed against the tree.  He had to shut his eyes though, as the power of the wind was thrusted upon him and the strange double with a tumultuously strong power.  
  
Then, someone ran out from the trees, and the double jumped back – just in time to avoid being sliced in two by a sword.  
  
Alma stared, completely in shock as he watched Kanda – the _real_ Kanda – swing Mugen against the double.  “Steal my face you son of a bitch and _see what happens_!” Kanda snarled, as he again lunged with another attack.  
  
“Alma!”  
  
Alma turned, just as he caught sight of Lavi running up to him.  “Alma – shit, Alma, what happened!?”  
  
Alma blinked, as he tried to think of a coherent response.  But his thoughts were reeling, and his mind was racing as he heard the sound of fighting – loud, and clashing.  “I,” Alma started to say, though all he could do was look at Lavi in helpless bewilderment.  “I don’t _know_!  I thought I came out here with Yuu, but I don’t know who that is, and-“  
  
Alma cut off, as his vision blurred once more, and everything blended together.  Clamping his eyes shut, Alma took another breath, as he tried to steady himself against the tree.  
  
Lavi frowned.  “Hey, you okay?” He asked.  
  
Nodding, Alma answered.  “Y-yeah,” He spoke, though in truth Alma felt anything _but_ okay.   
  
There was a somewhat disbelieving look in Lavi’s gaze, but his attention quickly returned to the fight.   
  
Kanda swung again, but the doppelganger continued to dodge.  As the look-alike continued to do so, it smiled coolly at Kanda, as its face – a face that so eerily mirrored Kanda’s own – was devoid of any emotion.  “You look angry.”  
  
Kanda gritted his teeth.  Oh, he was well beyond angry – he was absolutely _livid._ This _thing_ (whatever it was) had ruined everything: Kanda’s life, his future….just _everything_.  Because of this double, Kanda’s name had literally been dragged through the mud, so much that he had to constantly look over his shoulder at every turn, and question every person he interacted with.  He had to run constantly, and even worse – his whole _unit_ had gotten dragged down with him.  
  
And now, this thing had the audacity to go near _Alma_?  The notion alone was infuriating enough to nearly send Kanda into a blind rage, and his animosity was so scathing that it was nearly suffocating.  
  
Gripping the hilt of Mugen tightly, Kanda couldn’t even say anything.  He was too angry, and all he could do was throw attack after attack, pushing himself again and again until he knew he would kill the double.  
  
But, the double was fast and strong – and something inhuman.  Kanda didn’t know if it were and akuma, or something worse, but as it moved, its hand shifted into a strange, whip-like weapon with a blade attached.   
  
Kanda had to briefly halt, moving quickly to avoid the impact.  As he did this, the blow struck into the ground, causing dark sparks of energy to sizzle into the ground.  
  
Lavi acted quickly, running as he activated an attack from his hammer.  “Fire stamp!”   
  
A whirl of flames was released, and for a moment the double’s movements were delayed.  As several flames grazed the flesh, there was a literal crack that appeared, revealing dark skin underneath.  
  
“Keep attacking it!” Lavi shouted to Kanda, when he noticed the double faltering.  
  
Kanda did so, but the double’s eyes flashed, and burned in a golden hue once more.  Within a blink, the double moved, and its form shifted entirely – this time into something dark, and animalistic.  
  
Kanda wavered on his attack, when he saw that the double had now taken the form of a large, black panther.  
  
By the tree, Alma was still trying to steady himself.  Lavi had needed to get back into the fight, and Alma knew he needed to help too – but there was something wrong with him, and he was beginning to feel delirious.  He didn’t know what it was, or what had caused it; but, each time Alma tried to stand on his own his legs threatened to cave under his own weight, and his world spun.  
  
There was a hiss-like growl, and Alma turned.  Through the bleariness of his vision, he could see the panther, tense and growly lowly, as Kanda and Lavi remained still.  Both exorcists looked ready to attack again, but there was a wariness to their stance, as though they weren’t sure _what_ to expect.  
  
“Nice kitty…” Lavi murmured, though there was hardly a trace of humor to be found in the moment.  
  
The panther snarled, and moved – charging at both exorcists, before last minute shifting its path to direct an attack at Kanda.  
  
Something went off in Alma, and on a level that could only be described as _instinctual_ , he acted. Using every ouch of energy he had, Alma tried to harness what he could with his innocence, and fired an attack, hitting one of the panther’s rear legs and causing it to falter on attacking Kanda.  
  
The panther hissed again, and using its tail, formed another whip-like weapon.  It swung, nearly managing to hit both Kanda and Lavi.  Its bright yellow eyes flashed, and its focus briefly landed on Alma.  
  
It stared only for a second, but seemed to notice the state Alma was in.  Then, without any other warning, the panther turned, and ran back into the woods.  
  
“Damn it, it’s getting away!”  Kanda cursed, before making a move to go after it.  That thing had caused too much trouble, and Kanda was _not_ about to let it escape-  
  
“Kanda, wait!”  
  
Kanda turned, blue eyes flashing heatedly.  “Fucking _why_ -“ He started to ask, not sure why Lavi would think it acceptable to _let the damn thing go_.  
  
But, when Kanda looked, he saw why.  Back where Alma had been, the prince was no longer standing.  Instead, Alma was on the ground, looking as though he had just collapsed.   
  
Lavi ran over to where Alma was, and Kanda briefly felt a conflicting pull of desires.  The first was to go after the panther, and to make sure it didn’t get away alive – but before Kanda could even think to give in, there was a second, even stronger urge.  
  
It wasn’t even a debate and that point, and Kanda swiftly rushed over to where Alma was.  As he knelt down, he quickly looked over Alma; the prince was unconscious, and frighteningly still.  Alma’s skin also looked as though it had paled a shade, too – an unsettling sight, that sent a cold, icy fear all throughout Kanda.  
  
“Alma!  Hey, wake up!” Lavi was trying to urge.  
  
There was no response, and Kanda whipped his head in Lavi’s direction.  “What’s wrong with him!?” He snapped.  
  
“I don’t know!”  Lavi said, as his own tone started to take on a more agitated edge.  “Something seemed off earlier, but-“  
  
Lavi stopped speaking, as his eyes landed on something.  Just where part of Alma’s collarbone was visible around the neckline of his shirt, there was a dark, tendril-like marking on his skin.  
  
Realization slammed into Lavi, as he immediately recognized the mark.  “Shit…”  
  
Not quite sure what had caused Lavi’s abrupt shift, Kanda glared, and snapped again.  “What is it!?”  
  
“We have to get him back to the house,” Lavi instructed, tone hardening.  “Now!”  
  
Kanda’s jaw clenched.  He hated being kept in the dark, and the cryptic urgency did nothing to quell Kanda’s growing aggravation.  But he looked at Alma, who was so soundless and unmoving, and something inside Kanda cracked apart.  
  
Without saying anything else, Kanda picked up Alma’s body, and rushed him back to the house with Lavi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNNNNND THERE IT IS.
> 
> I had wanted to get this up last night, but got held up because adulting things are a pain and I’m attempting to do NanoWrimo (with a lower word goal, but gah. Still trying to get there!). But it’s up, and…more drama happened. 8D
> 
> I actually had several versions of this scene, and the way Alma was going to get poisoned (he was just never going to escape that fate >.<), and in some of the versions I wasn’t going to use an apple. But I don’t know. I couldn’t resist using an apple because it’s so iconic and frankly I don’t think I’ll ever do another Snow White AU, so I’m just riding the self-indulgent train.
> 
> But ah. Of course this would happen before Alma is about to leave, and after the rather painful interaction Kanda and Alma had at the end of the previous chapter…again, just piling away to add to that drama. >.<
> 
> Since I’m doing Nano, I’m going to try to use it to finish this story (I’m on 27, have 28, annnnd an epilogue!? SO I’M CLOSE?) before starting some other things. At this rate it’s looking like I can still update weekly, so that’s what I’m aiming for (I’d like to have all the chapters up by the end of December >.<).
> 
> We’ll see though! Thank you all for support as always, and any feedback is welcome!


	24. A Deep Sleep

_Wherever he was, it was dark, and Alma couldn’t see anything.  
  
Alma looked around. Inky darkness stretched out before him, and there were no walls or ceiling – nothing that he could see, at least. Alma couldn’t even see the _ ground _; he felt it, but that was it, and his insides squirmed uneasily.  
  
_ ‘This…seems familiar…’ _Alma thought, as he tried reaching his hand outward. To his relief, he could at least see that much.  
  
Alma froze, as he stared at his hand. At first, he had not noticed it; he was so disoriented from not knowing where he was, or how he ended up there, but soon it dawned on him.  
  
His innocence was missing.  
  
Staring, Alma looked at his other arm – just in case for some strange, warped reason he had someone confused his own limbs. But like his left arm, everything was normal, and plain. There was no silvery bracer, and there was no innocence.  
  
_ ‘Innocence…’ _Alma thought, before suddenly remembering why this place seemed so familiar.  
  
The innocence. The voice. It had started here. When Alma was asleep, and dreaming.  
  
Which meant, this was a dream…?  
  
Alma took a breath. A dream. This was a dream. He wasn’t really alone. It wasn’t really dark. It was a dream, and he would wake up soon.  
  
Soon….  
  
He _ would _wake up soon, right…?  
  
The darkness remained.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
It was quiet, and Tiedoll was growing worried.  
  
He looked around. After everyone had realized that Alma had been lured off by someone else – or some _thing_ else – Lavi and Kanda had bolted to try to find him. Tiedoll, Marie, and Daisya had also followed, though once everyone made it into the woods they had decided to split ways, hoping that from that someone could track where Alma had ended up more quickly.  
  
For Tiedoll, there was no such luck.  
  
Tiedoll turned, and looked over. Nearby was Marie, who was once more adjusting his headphones as he tried to listen to their surroundings.  
  
“Anything?” Tiedoll asked.  
  
Marie shook his head. “No, it’s too quiet,” He said, before frowning. “Not exactly a good sign.”  
  
The words were disquieting, and Tiedoll remained unnerved. There was a grim feeling in the air, as though something wretched had transpired. But, if Marie couldn’t pick up on hearing anything, then that meant whatever had happened wasn’t taking place anywhere near where Tiedoll and Marie were, and Tiedoll could only hope that one of the others had found Alma.  
  
“Let’s go back to the house,” Tiedoll suggested. “Perhaps the others made it back there, and someone found something.”  
  
Marie nodded, and the two of them began to head back. It didn’t take long, and during the short walk both men kept their minds alert, listening and looking for any indicators of something off. However, they made it back to the house without such information.  
  
When they returned, no one was there.  
  
Marie listened, then angled his face toward Tiedoll once they were inside. “The others must still be out looking,” Marie spoke. “We should go back to find them-“  
  
The door into the living room area opened, and Tiedoll and Marie turned just as Daisya was coming in. Daisya looked between the two men. “Ugh, you guys didn’t find anything _either_?”  
  
“No, but we need to find Kanda and Lavi,” Tiedoll said. “They’re the only ones who haven’t come back yet.”  
  
Before anyone else could speak, Marie’s attention suddenly became distracted. Placing a hand on his headphones, he listened, as a look of concentration appeared on his face.  
  
“Marie, what is it?” Tiedoll asked.  
  
Marie’s brow creased, as he listened a second longer. “Sounds like two people are running toward the house…”  
  
A wave of tension flickered through the air. Daisya, who was closest to a window, chanced a glance outside, as an uneasy look appeared in his eyes. He stared out for only a second, and upon seeing who was outside his eyes widened. “Shit, they found him,” Daisya said, before hurrying to the door to swing to swing it open. As he did, both Kanda and Lavi came busting through, with Alma unconscious in Kanda’s arms.  
  
“Lie him down somewhere-“ Lavi was urging, though Kanda didn’t need to be told twice.  
  
Without even responding, Kanda ran Alma upstairs, as the sound of panicked and concerned voices were left behind him. Once up the stairs, Kanda ran to Alma’s room, kicking the door open before quickly rushing Alma to the bed, where he placed Alma onto his back. Although moving swiftly, Kanda tried to be gentle as he lowered Alma’s head, and Kanda’s heart nearly stopped as he once more noticed the lack of color in Alma’s face.  
  
Kanda’s jaw clenched, his whole body feeling oddly paralyzed as he stared at Alma’s unmoving body. _‘Damn it…’_  
  
“Alma,” Kanda started to say, while reaching out to place a hand on the prince’s shoulder. Very gingerly, Kanda shook him, as his voice came out in a soft plea. “Alma, wake up…“  
  
Out in the hall, Kanda could hear the hurried scuffle of footsteps. But, Kanda didn’t turn, and he was too distracted to care at that point. All he could do was just stare, and gaze at Alma – Alma who should have been awake, and who should have been _moving_ -  
  
“I don’t know what it did, but I have to look at him,” Lavi was saying to someone, before rushing into the room.  
  
In a speedy motion, Lavi got beside where Kanda was, quickly taking over much to Kanda’s aggravation. Kanda couldn’t help but glare at the Bookman, unable to ignore the sense of intrusion he felt. Lavi didn’t appear to care though, or maybe he didn’t notice, as his attention instead remained on Alma. Quickly, Lavi unbuttoned the top part of Alma’s shirt.  
  
Kanda frowned, at first not sure what the hell Lavi was doing. However, as Kanda opened his mouth to question Lavi, he promptly closed it, as his attention moved to the exposed part of Alma’s chest. There, Kanda could see black marks: thin, spiraling patterns like thorny vines beginning to trace over Alma’s skin.  
  
“What the hell is that?” Kanda asked, voice low and tense as his eyes flashed over to Lavi.  
  
“Damn it, damn it, _damn it_ ,” Lavi hissed, before running a semi-gloved hand through his bright hair anxiously, not even answering Kanda’s question. He then leaned close, as he tried to listen for any signs of breathing. “Shit, I can’t even tell if he’s breathing!”  
  
At this point, Marie came in. Knowing his way around the room already, he came over to where Lavi and Kanda were, and knelt down beside Alma. Quietly, Marie listened, before pressing his fingers to Alma’s neck. “He has a pulse, but it’s barely there.”  
  
Lavi stood, and exhaled as he walked back toward the door. Tiedoll and Daisya were already there, both looking uneasily between Lavi and over where Alma was. “Lavi, what happened?” Tiedoll asked, tone more severe than normal.  
  
Another breath escaped Lavi, and he glanced back over toward Alma’s body, where Marie and Kanda were. “Whatever lured Alma out did something do him, but it must have been before we got there,” Lavi answered. “I’m not sure if it was an akuma or _what_ though…”  
  
Daisya frowned. “If it were an akuma it wouldn’t have made it beyond the seals,” He pointed out.  
  
As Lavi heard this, there was an uneasy look that flashed across his face, and his gaze hardened, pensive and apprehensive.  
  
Tiedoll noticed. “Do you know what it was?”  
  
Lavi hesitated, but answered. His words were wary. “Not for sure. But whatever it did to Alma, I’ve seen it before,” He admitted, as the truth burned that back of his throat like acidic bile. “It’s a tactic the Noah used in the past, usually on exorcists. There was some documentation I was looking into not too long ago regarding it.”  
  
Still beside Alma, Kanda’s ears perked as he heard this, and his attention refocused on the conversation behind him. However, he felt himself strain to take his eyes off of Alma, watching carefully for a sign – _any_ sign – of movement.  
  
“So that means you know what’s wrong right?” Daisya asked.  
  
Lavi didn’t answer right away, and an uneasy silence lingered. “Not entirely,” He answered, as he recalled what he read. Toxins. Venom. Dark matter. “It’s…not like an akuma virus. But it’s made from the same dark matter. Like a venom that slowly breaks down the mind and body-”  
  
Lavi was cut off, as he was abruptly slammed against the wall. The force was one that knocked the wind from his body, and there was a startled look on his face as he tried to register what had just happened.  
  
When Lavi looked, he saw who it was that had pinned him.  
  
Kanda was there, face stony as he held Lavi by the shirt, keeping him shoved against the wall. His indigo eyes were like two blades of ice, so cold that they were scathing.  
  
Kanda glowered at Lavi darkly. “Wake him up,” Kanda spoke, words low and hard. Then, before anyone even had a chance to speak, Kanda snapped entirely. “Damn it, if you know what’s wrong, _fucking wake him up_ -!”  
  
“Kanda!” Tiedoll shouted, as he and Daisya ran over, both attempting to pry Kanda off of Lavi. “Kanda, stop! This won’t solve anything!”  
  
Teeth gnashing together, Kanda was yanked off – though both Tiedoll and Daisya had to keep a hold on him to prevent Kanda from going off on Lavi again.  
  
“Seriously, Kanda, _calm down_!” Daisya hissed. “He can’t help if you kill him!”  
  
“If he knows what’s wrong he needs to _do something_!” Kanda snapped, words coming out in a growl.  
  
“You think I _wanted_ to let this happen!?” Lavi bit back, agitation spilling outward. A dangerous crack in a mask that should have never been lost, yet there it was: anger, frustration, aggravation. “I’m supposed to bring him back, and I can’t do that if he…”  
  
Lavi trailed off, as he realized he was losing control – something that he should have known better than to do. However, the pressure of the situation was getting to him, and Lavi knew that he needed to get a hold of himself. A Bookman was never supposed to be so careless.  
  
Tiedoll looked at Lavi, eyes wary. “Lavi,” He started, words laced with caution. “Do you…know how to wake someone up from this?”  
  
The silence that fell after the question was stifling in its tension. Kanda was especially rigid, muscles tightened from the irritated nerves and the coil of ice that seemed to be spreading throughout his core.  
  
Finally, Lavi sighed, and shook his head. “No,” He admitted, voice quiet. “The documents I looked at didn’t describe what happened to the few exorcists mentioned regarding whether they survived or not. And the one case I did find with more detail...their heart stopped beating not long after they were infected.”  
  
Lavi looked up, and added before anyone could say anything. “But usually it was given through being cut or something – was there an open wound? Maybe if there’s any trace of the venom-“  
  
“There wasn’t _anything_!” Kanda broke, words harsh and forced out. “There…wasn’t…”  
  
Kanda knew already. Kanda had looked. Not a tear, and not a mark – there had been no blood, or _anything_ when he had carried Alma back.  
  
Alma had just been there. In Kanda’s arms, and lifeless. Pale. Unmoving.  
  
Inside, Kanda felt something chip, and splinter – as though something were breaking apart into too many pieces. Too many fragments. _‘Alma…’_  
  
Daisya exhaled, having finally released Kanda from his grip. He looked between the others, eyes uncannily serious. “We can’t really do anything then…”  
  
Lavi and Tiedoll said nothing to that. Marie was also quiet, as he still was beside Alma and listening for any signs that something might change. However, nothing changed, and the room remained silent.  
  
The room remained silent, and Alma didn’t wake up.  
  


* * *

  
  
_He didn’t wake up.  
  
Alma didn’t understand – this was a dream, wasn’t it? It had to have been. How else could he have explained that his innocence was missing, or the strange, enveloping darkness that surrounded him? For it to have been reality would have been a terrifying notion, and Alma couldn’t allow himself to believe it. He couldn’t accept it.  
  
But, nothing had changed, and Alma was still there. He was still there, alone and left in the darkness.  
  
Alma shivered – a strange sensation, since he shouldn’t have felt cold with it being only a dream. But the air around him felt like a mist of ice, and when he breathed Alma could see a puff of his breath. The temperature was dropping, and it was getting colder.  
  
Alma rubbed his arms, and looked around. He still couldn’t see anything, and he couldn’t hear anything either.  
  
_ ‘It’s…so quiet here…’ _Alma thought, as he tried to quell his unease. It was a challenge though; it was terribly isolating to be in that darkness, and more than anything Alma wished that someone were with him. Klaud. Tiedoll. Lavi-  
  
_ ‘Yuu…’ _  
  
Another shiver, and Alma tightened his grasp on his arms. _ ‘It’s getting so cold…’ _  
  
Warily, Alma started walking. He had done so a bit earlier, though he had found nothing but more darkness, and more silence.  
  
Somewhere, there was a giggle.  
  
It shattered the silence, like glass falling onto smooth marble. Alma immediately stiffened. He still remembered what the innocence sounded like: soft, and lulling. But this voice was different. Taunting. Familiar.  
  
Alma blinked, and when he opened his eyes he was back in the castle. However, it was not the home he remembered that was filled with life and people – no, this was different. Empty. Vacant. Forsaken.  
  
Like the night Alma had hallucinated, and thought he was home.  
  
Alarm filled Alma, as his heart clenched. He immediately shut his eyes. _ ‘No, not here – _not_ here!’  
  
_That night. The dream. The voice –_ Road’s _voice. No, Alma couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t take it. He just_ couldn’t _-  
  
Heart racing, Alma tried to breathe. It felt like ice was frosting his lungs, and the effort was strained. _ ‘It’s not real. It’s not _real,_ ’ _He tried to tell himself.  
  
A few moments passed. With great trepidation, Alma forced himself to open his eyes.  
  
This time, he was in the woods.  
  
Alma felt his heart drop, as a rush of fear overtook him – swallowing him up, and blanketing his senses. The woods. He was in the woods. Cold, dark, _ terrifying _woods. Endless trees. Endless darkness. Nothing but shadows, still and only flickering when a threat was near.  
  
A tremble of a breath escaped Alma. His breathing was shallow, and his heart was hammering against his ribcage, anxious and poisoned with fear. Alma didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be in the woods. He _ hated _the woods-  
  
“It’s not real,” Alma tried to tell himself, as he shut his eyes tightly in hopes to make it stop – to make whatever this was go away. “It’s not real…”  
  
Desperately, Alma tried to tell himself this as he clutched his head. “It’s in your head. You’re…you’re not really here…”  
  
He kept telling himself this, the words begging to be believed. But Alma couldn’t eradicate his emotions, like a tidal wave they washed over him, stifling his ability to move and keeping his body locked in place.  
  
Close by, another giggle was heard.  
  
Alma’s eyes snapped open. He was still in the wood, surrounded by the gnarled and twisted trees as though it were some kind of prison. There was no telling which way led out, and everywhere just looked the _ same _– but Alma couldn’t ignore the horrid sensation that someone was close, and_ watching _him…_ ‘No…no it’s not…’ _  
  
Instinct overtaking Alma, he started running.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
A heavy silence had befallen the house. Despite being occupied, those inside were quiet – weighed down with decisions to make, and costs to account for.  
  
No one had really determined just what to do yet. Alma had not woken up, and was still in some sort of comatose state. Marie remained beside him though, carefully listening to the prince’s pulse – which was slow, and unnervingly faint. Fading, as though it were dissolving into nothingness.  
  
There was a frown on Marie’s face, lined with concern. “His pulse is growing weaker…”  
  
Kanda, who had been leaning against the doorframe, felt his body tense. He had refused to leave the room, even when Tiedoll had tried to get him to step out for some air. Kanda didn’t need to step out though – he needed to stay, and he needed to keep an eye on Alma.  
  
Kanda remained tense, as his eyes lingered on Alma. Not close enough. Kanda hadn’t watched Alma closely enough, too wrapped up in his own bitterness and too consumed with keeping up walls. So, Kanda hadn’t been watching, and now…  
  
Teeth gritting, Kanda exhaled angrily. “This is stupid,” He remarked, words bitter and scathing. “We’re just standing here doing _nothing_!”  
  
Marie turned his face toward Kanda. “Kanda, there’s nothing we _can_ do,” Marie pointed out, his tone heavy and worn. Regretful, even. “The most we can hope for is that Alma will pull out of it…”  
  
Kanda sneered, the vehemence trickling out like sparks of fire. “That’s a load of shit,” He seethed, as his fists balled so tightly that his knuckles were white.  
  
Waiting. Standing. Doing _nothing_ – Kanda hated it, and thought he was going to lose his mind.  
  
Moving somewhat suddenly, Kanda spoke, voice harsh and rough. “Give…give me a minute. I’ll be right back,” He said, before turning sharply to look over at Marie. Kanda inwardly winced as he saw Alma’s unconscious body. “Don’t leave him alone.”  
  
“I’ll stay with him,” Marie reassured.  
  
Kanda wavered, as he found it a struggle to leave, and to let Alma out of his sight. But he tried to remind himself that at least Marie was with Alma, and that Marie would be able to hear Alma’s heartbeat if anything else happened.  
  
Still. Leaving the room felt as though Kanda were tearing his own heart out.  
  
Heading downstairs, Kanda’s footsteps felt heavy, and loud against the silence of the house. It was quiet enough that one might have thought that no one else was around, but when Kanda came down into the living room area, he spotted Lavi and Tiedoll seated, while Daisya was nearby leaning against the window.  
  
Seeing Kanda, Tiedoll looked up, and a glint of worried curiosity appeared in his eyes. “Anything?” He asked.  
  
Kanda’s expression darkened, and he averted his gaze. That alone was enough to answer Tiedoll’s question.  
  
“Marie said his pulse is getting weaker…” Kanda finally admitted, the words feeling like sand scraping across his tongue.  
  
Lavi kept his gaze downcast, expression contemplative. “That’s what happened the last time this was recorded,” He noted, as he thought back to the king’s medical records. He exhaled, cursing lowly. “This doesn’t look good…”  
  
There was a tense silence, and uneasy glances exchanged. Kanda found it a struggle to look at anyone though, as his own feelings threatened to boil over.  
  
Eventually, Daisya broke the silence, going as far as to brave a topic that everyone had been avoiding. “So…what are we going to do now?”  
  
No one answered, but the tension in the room increased. Kanda’s eyes flashed over to Daisya. “What?”  
  
Daisya frowned, as he leaned back against the window. “I mean…not to be grim, but if Alma doesn’t wake up, what are we going to…you know….?”  
  
The room became so soundless that the sound of a pin dropping would have been cacophonic.  
  
Lavi’s face was blank, as he seemed to register this. Then, another slew of curses escaped from under his breath. “Damn it…”  
  
Tiedoll’s face grew in its severity, causing him to look older and more worn than normal. His attention flickered over to Lavi. “Daisya is right,” He admitted, though his words seemed leaden. “We…have to be realistic, and know what we’re going to do.”  
  
Kanda felt his muscles petrify, and his blood grow cold. His whole body rimmed with tension, and his jaw tightened.  
  
Lavi exhaled. “If Alma doesn’t come out of it, I won’t be able to…take him back to the castle. I don’t even know if that would be a good idea,” He said. “Queen Tricia already has so much grief, and I don’t know if it’d be...wise to take him back. We already know that somehow akuma can be made from situations like this, and given how things are…”  
  
Kanda’s hand clasped at his arms, which had been folded. His nails dug into so deeply that had he not been wearing sleeves, his nails might have drawn blood.  
  
Alma. They were talking about Alma, and what to do with his _body_. Almost as though he were already dead. Almost as though there really was no chance of Alma ever waking up, of ever opening those bright blue eyes, of ever _smiling_ again…  
  
What felt like bile threatened to rise up the back of Kanda’s throat, and he tried to repress it, swallowing the acid and attempting to keep from losing control right then and there. But, Kanda could feel himself slipping, as a venomous anger threatened to overtake him. “So what’ll you do?” He asked, voice low and acidic.  
  
Lavi paused, and no one else said anything.  
  
Somehow, that was all Kanda needed, and he sneered. “Fuck this,” He cursed, before swiftly leaving the room and going back upstairs. Usually, he would have just left the house, and stormed out – far off and away from everything. But doing that would have meant going farther away from Alma, and Kanda didn’t have it in him to do that.  
  
When he got upstairs, Alma was still unconscious, and Marie said nothing.  
  


* * *

  
  
_Alma didn’t know how far he had run, but his legs burned.  
  
They burned, and they hurt, and he was _ tired _. Why was he so tired? If this was a dream, Alma shouldn’t have felt so exhausted. He shouldn’t have felt as though his legs were about to give out beneath him, and as though his lungs might shatter from inhaling the frosty air. By this logic – the logic that it_ were _only a dream – Alma should have known it was safe to stop running, and that nothing could actually hurt him.  
  
However, the woods were dark, and there were movements of shadows, flickering like taunting whispers of obsidian. The shadows loomed, teasing and tormenting, as though they were just _ waiting _for Alma to stop running.  
  
Alma didn’t know how much longer he could keep running though. He was so tired, and it was growing difficult to see-  
  
His foot caught a rock, and Alma fell, with something sharp cutting into his hand – the hand that had gotten cut during that first day in the woods, when Alma had fallen. Suddenly, it felt as though Alma were re-living that terrible moment, as it replayed too vividly in his mind.  
  
Hand stinging, Alma watched as it bled, and the scent of iron and copper filled his nostrils.  
  
_ ‘Don’t,’ _He kept trying to tell himself._ ‘It’s not real – it’s _not_ real!’  
  
_Why, though?   Why did it feel so real…?  
  
Alma opened his eyes, and looked at his hand again. It was still bleeding, but this time when he looked, there was something else off: a series of black swirls beginning to spread from the cut.  
  
For some reason, this caused a rush of panic to fill Alma.  
  
_ “Alma.” _  
  
Alma’s head shot up, startled. At first, he thought it was Road – but as he listened, he realized this voice was different. In fact, it wasn’t much like a voice at all – more like a call, and a gentle nudge. Something not as cold, and not as horrid.  
_  
“This way, Alma.” _  
  
_ ‘That voice…’ _Alma thought, as he began to recall it._ ‘That…that sounds like…’  
  
“You have to find me, remember?”  
  
_Eyes widening, Alma recognized the voice._ ‘That’s the innocence…!’ _  
  
Quickly, Alma forced himself to get up despite the way every muscle in his body protested. He listened, trying to tell where the voice had come from, and where the innocence might be calling him toward.  
  
_ “This way.” _  
  
There – Alma could feel it now. It was a faint sensation, easy to miss, but there, ringing at the base of his spine like a silvery bell. Pushing his way through the woods, Alma began to run after it, fearful that if he waited too long he would lose the trace all together. He desperately tried to ignore the woods around him, and the way the branches creaked and cracked like ghostly whispers in the night, and tried only to focus on the small pull, gently calling and imploring him to follow.  
  
_ “You’re getting closer…”  
  
_Faster. Alma tried to run faster, and soon, he could see something peering through the darkness of the woods. A light: silvery and luminous, yet distant and out of reach._ ‘There!’ _  
  
Alma was close. He was close, and maybe if he found the innocence, this would all end, and it would go away –  
  
But, as Alma was approaching what appeared to be the edge of the woods – and as he felt a tremor of something hopeful, something desperate – he caught of glimpse of something on the ground. Something that shimmered in the dark, and rippled below.  
  
Stumbling, Alma stopped, just as he nearly fell into what looked to be a large body of water.  
  
Alma froze, legs tired and second short of collapsing. His breaths were shallow, as he strained to catch his breath, and he looked forward. Across the water, he could see the innocence – once more a lotus, far off and isolated on the surface.  
  
Alma stared.  
  
_ “You have to come here, Alma…” _  
  
It was calling to him. The innocence was calling to him, but Alma couldn’t move. He couldn’t go any farther. The mere sight of water, looming and bottomless, seemed to petrify Alma, as his heart twisted and tugged itself apart.  
  
_ Water.  
  
Falling into water.  
  
Drowning.  
  
_Alma swallowed, as the memory hammered into him with a horrid force. Drowning. He could still remember the water as it filled his lungs, and the way the reeds below had pulled and yanked him downward. He could still remember being choked with mud and murk, and the fear the experience had instilled within Alma.  
  
Once again, Alma was afraid. He was too afraid to go forward, and too afraid to drown.  
  
_ “You have to find me…” _  
  
The innocence continued to beckon Alma, but he was paralyzed. He couldn’t go any farther, and he didn’t know how deep the water ran. He didn’t know, and…  
  
Faintly, Alma could hear another giggle from behind him – the kind that sounded as though it belonged to someone malicious, and cruel.  
  
_ “Lotuses are always fated to sink back into the mud…” _A voice repeated – this time, one that sounded eerily like Road.  
  
Alma shuddered, as a sense of dread filled him, and finally his legs gave out as he fell to his knees.  
  
The innocence tried to call to him again. _ “You have to come here…” _  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek. As he looked down, he could see his hand – the one had been cut. Alma could now see the black tendrils had spread up his arm, and were continuing to spread.  
  
Alma looked up, and across the water. Distantly, he could see the innocence.  
  
It continued to call, but Alma remained still, too afraid to go any further.  
  
He couldn’t do it.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
The seconds were passing agonizingly slowly, and Kanda felt as though he were losing his mind.  
  
He had returned upstairs, to where Marie was with Alma. Not once had Alma stirred, his body remaining as deathly still as when Kanda had left him. It was a wretched sight; the only thing that had changed were the black markings, which had spread over Alma’s skin, crawling up his neck as a few even swirling onto his cheek.  
  
It sickened Kanda to see those markings on Alma. They didn’t belong on Alma.  
  
Kanda remained quiet, as he kept his gaze on Alma while leaning on the doorframe again. Marie was still seated beside Alma, trying to listen for any changes in his pulse. The larger man’s expression remained pensive, and it made Kanda uneasy.  
  
Alma would wake up though. He had to wake up.  
  
Kanda gritted his teeth. _‘He’s not dead yet. He’s not dead yet, and can still come out of it…’_  
  
Alma wasn’t meant to be like this. He wasn’t meant to be in a coma, and he wasn’t meant to be lifeless. Too easily, Kanda could still recall the brightness of Alma’s eyes, and the sweetness of his smile. His incessant chattering was now a fond memory, melodious and endearing, and more than anything Kanda would have given anything to hear Alma’s voice again. To be asked about gardening, or to hear Alma ramble about something completely random and miniscule.  
  
Anything. Kanda would have given anything to hear that voice again. To hear that laugh, and to see that _smile_ …  
  
_‘You don’t deserve it though,’_ A voice coldly reminded Kanda. _‘Because it’s didn’t mean anything, right?’_  
  
The reminder was acidic, and Kanda’s whole body stiffened. The last thing he had told Alma was that none of it mattered, and that what they had shared hadn’t even been worth remembering.  
  
The last words that Kanda had spoken to Alma had been the ones to hurt him.  
  
_‘And where did it get you? You pushed him away, and look at what happened…’_  
  
Teeth grinding, Kanda could feel his muscles tighten in tension even more. He had pushed Alma away, and despite that, Alma had still wanted to talk to him before leaving. Alma had still wanted to try.  
  
Alma had trusted Kanda, and Kanda had failed to be there for Alma. He had failed to keep him safe, despite promising to do so.  
  
_Gently, Kanda took Alma’s hand as he brushed aside Alma’s bangs. “Nothing bad will happen to you again…” Kanda murmured softly. “I won’t let that happen…”_  
  
Like a wave crashing down on him, Kanda knew the truth: that this fell on him, and that he was to blame. He had been the one to open that damn door, and to allow for him and Alma to get _close_. He had been the one to lead Alma into some sense of security, only to tear it away, and to leave Alma – Alma who was so damn naïve and trusting – vulnerable, and in a place where he could be tricked and taken advantage of.  
  
If Alma died, it would be Kanda’s fault. And if Alma recovered, Kanda didn’t deserve a second chance.  
  
Kanda’s eyes lingered on Alma, who was still lying on the bed. _‘Damn it…’_ He thought, as he refused to look away – even when he heard the footsteps of someone approaching from the hall.  
  
Tiedoll was the one who had approached, and with Kanda he remained in the doorway. His attention briefly moved over to the bed, where he saw Kanda was focused on.  
  
Tiedoll looked back at Kanda. “Kanda,” He said, voice soft.  
  
Kanda said nothing, and only kept his attention on the bed where Alma was.  
  
Tiedoll sighed. “Kanda,” He tried again, eyes concerned. “Kanda, don’t put this on your shoulders…”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed in Tiedoll’s direction, and he glared. Then, he abruptly looked away. “Tch. How do you know that’s what I’m doing?”  
  
Another breath escaped Tiedoll, tired and worn. “Kanda, I’ve known you for nearly nine years. I know how you are,” He said. “This is _not_ your fault.”  
  
Face twisting into a cross between a grimace and a scowl, Kanda kept his gaze averted, unable to look Tiedoll in the eye. He kept his fists clenched.  
  
Kanda found himself unable to keep his next thought to himself, as it came out in an almost inaudible murmur. “Yes, it is…”  
  
A pained look flashed in Tiedoll’s eyes, and he appeared as though he intended to say something. However, before Tiedoll could do so, Marie stood, causing Tiedoll and Kanda to both look over at the man.  
  
“Marie, what is it?” Tiedoll asked. Kanda clearly was wondering the same thing, though he remained silent, and seemed to be holding his breath.

  
Marie turned, angling his face just slightly toward where Kanda and Tiedoll were. He did not do so completely, and there was a distinct expression on his face – one that was gilded in remorse.  
  
“Alma’s heartbeat,” Marie spoke, words quiet. “There’s not a pulse anymore.”  
  
Everything stopped, and for a moment Kanda thought that his own heartbeat had ceased as well.  
  
_‘No,’_ Kanda thought. _‘No, that can’t….Alma isn’t…’_  
  
“I’m sorry,” Marie continued. “But…he’s gone.”  
  
Just like that, Kanda felt his own heart break like shattered glass.  
  
Alma was dead, and Kanda had lost him forever.  
  
_‘Alma…’_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_Alma was tired, and cold.  
  
He hadn’t gotten up – he didn’t have the strength to. He was far too exhausted, sitting at the edge of the water, his body slowly starting to freeze as exhaustion overtook him. Alma actually could feel himself beginning to doze off, as the rest of his body threatened to fall to the earth – into the cold, hard earth, and into a sleep that would have lasted for a long, long time.  
  
_ ‘I’m…so tired…’ _Alma thought, as he almost fell forward. He had caught himself, wincing at the sting in his cut hand. When he looked down, Alma could see that both of his hands were now covered in markings, which had only seemed to spread over his body.  
  
Tired. Alma was so tired, and just wanted to sleep.  
  
_ ‘But if I go to sleep here, then what happens…?’ _Alma wondered. Would he ever awake up again? Or would he just fall into darkness, and that would be it…?  
  
_ “Find me, Alma…” _  
  
Alma looked back up. The innocence was still there, lingering on the surface of the water and calling to Alma faintly. Alma could feel something inside tug at his heart, urging him to go after the innocence.  
  
The image of drowning flashed through Alma’s mind, and he shuddered, recoiling from the water.  
  
“I can’t…” Alma spoke, words quiet as he kept his face downcast. “I’m sorry, but I…I can’t go…”  
  
“That’s silly. Why can’t you go?”  
  
The voice startled Alma, and he looked up. There, standing in front of Alma, was a child. A child who couldn’t have been any older than eight, with messy hair and wide, curious eyes.  
  
Alma stared, dumbfounded. The child looked just like Alma when he had been younger. _ ‘That’s…me…?’ _  
  
“So why can’t you go?” The child repeated, words innocent and curious. “It’s not that far!”  
  
Alma stiffened at the suggestion, but found it difficult to respond right away. He didn’t understand what was going on, or who this child was who looked so strangely like Alma used to. But, Alma couldn’t go into the water. He couldn’t go after the innocence.  
  
“It’s…it’s not safe. I’ll drown again….” Alma tried to reason, his own words faint.  
  
The child looked at Alma, and with a bright smile seemed to think of something. “But you used to like swimming! You always like to play in the water, remember?”  
  
Alma blinked, but shook his head. “I’ll just…sink back into the mud. Lotuses always sink back into the mud…”  
  
Shock filled the child’s eyes, which were large and bright, even in the darkness. “That’s not true! Lotuses rise up from the mud too, because that’s how they reach the sunlight,” The child pointed out. “Don’t you miss the sunlight?”  
  
Alma paused, and thought. The sunlight, and the warmth of it against his skin. Yes – Alma missed it. He missed being in the light, and he didn’t want to stay in that cold darkness.  
  
Hesitantly, Alma nodded.  
  
This caused the child to smile even more. He held out his hand to Alma. “I can go with you! It’s really not that far, and the light is so much nicer than being down here,” The child spoke, before adding brightly, “Yuu will be much happier if you come back too. I think he’s sad you’re here.”  
  
_ ‘Yuu…’ _Alma thought, as his heart ached. He missed Kanda.  
  
Somewhat cautiously, Alma took the child’s hand. The child spoke. “We just have to go across the water, but I promise it’s not that deep. It only seems scary because it’s dark and murky,” He explained. Another bright, reassuring smile graced the child’s features.  
  
For a moment, Alma wavered. He was so tired, and so unsure – but the ice in the air clung to him like claws, and the darkness was so suffocating. Alma didn’t want to be there, and he wanted to breathe. He wanted to _ live _. To see his friends, his family, and to see Kanda again…  
  
Standing, Alma followed the child across the water.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
  
Evening had fallen.  
  
No one had left yet, with any departures being postponed until the following day. It was inevitable that the exorcists would have to leave; they couldn’t stay, and were already putting themselves at more risk by staying longer than anticipated. However, none of them had been able to leave. Even after Alma’s heart had stopped beating, and his breaths had fallen silent, they had put off burying him until the following day.  
  
Kanda remained in Alma’s room for the majority of the evening. With Marie having left his position, Kanda had taken the seat beside Alma’s bed, watching Alma’s body as it remained still and lifeless. Cold. Dead.  
  
Dead.  
  
_‘It’s your fault…’_ Kanda thought to himself, unable to reduce the blame. _‘He trusted you, and you let_ this _happen…!’_  
  
Kanda knew it was pointless to scream at himself, but he didn’t know what else to do. Tiedoll had tried to speak with him, attempting to comfort Kanda despite the former general’s own distress at the tragedy that had taken place. Truthfully, it made Kanda feel like shit; he didn’t _deserve_ to be comforted. He didn’t deserve anything kind.  
  
Kanda exhaled, shaky and uneasy. The Bookman was staying the night again, apparently trying to figure out what it was he was going to do given the gruesome turn of events. Kanda couldn’t say he cared much about him – Alma had been the only person who had really mattered.  
  
_‘Alma…’_ Kanda thought, as his heart twisted and tugged, tearing itself apart violently.  
  
As night approached, Kanda had stepped out – but only for a moment, as he was loath to leave Alma. Even if Alma were no longer breathing, Kanda wouldn’t allow for Alma to be left alone again.  
  
When Kanda returned, the room was empty, save for Alma’s body. The rest of the exorcists and the Bookman were downstairs, reckoning with what had transpired and what to do next. Kanda didn’t care – he wanted to be alone, and would rather let them sort things out.  
  
Wordlessly, Kanda walked over to Alma’s bedside, as a candle remained on the nightstand, faintly illuminating the room. He took the vacant chair beside the bed, and pulled it closer to where Alma was.  
  
With a pained look, Kanda’s eyes rested on Alma’s body.  
  
It was eerie, and surreal. In many ways, Alma almost appeared as though he were sleeping. Eyes closed, and lying on his back. The main indicators of anything being wrong were the paleness of his skin, and the tendril-like markings that now danced along his flesh. Aside from those things, Alma looked…  
  
Kanda’s heart tightened, and he shifted, pulling out the one thing he had gone outside for.  
  
Gently, Kanda placed several lavender flowers beside Alma on the bed, the scent delicate and fragrant.  
  
_‘Not that you need them,’_ Kanda thought, heart bitter with remorse. _‘But you…really seemed to like them…’_  
  
It was stupid, but Kanda didn’t feel right not bringing them. He didn’t feel right about any of this. About Alma being buried in the woods, and left to be forgotten. Left in a grave that Kanda would probably never be able to see again…  
  
Suddenly, something inside Kanda’s heart cracked, and before he knew it his eyes were stubbornly burning. Hot, blurred – they were moist, but he was too heartbroken to care. Instead, he could only focus on Alma, and how Alma was too still, and too quiet, and not laughing and smiling, and just…  
  
“Why…” Kanda asked, voice hoarse as it threatened to crack. “Damn it, why did you have to get _hurt_ like this…”  
  
Pathetically, Kanda could feel himself lose his composure, the inside of his core breaking apart like crumbling stone. Hand somewhat shaking, he reached out, and took Alma’s hand – which felt cool against Kanda’s skin.  
  
Gingerly, Kanda held Alma’s hand, and ran his thumb over Alma’s fingers – which were so smooth to Kanda’s in comparison. The hand of a royal, and a hand that Kanda shouldn’t have even been touching.  
  
Hesitantly, Kanda lifted Alma’s hand. With a gossamer-like touch, he brought it to his lips, as he softly kissed the skin – the only kiss he would ever be able to leave Alma with, and one that Alma would never feel.  
  
Never…  
  
It was at that moment, that Kanda broke. Suddenly, no walls and no barriers could contain the guilt and the agony that Kanda felt, and the sorrow of having lost the one person that he truly cared about. Kanda had been terrible to Alma, and Alma had been willing to see beyond that and have patience with Kanda, and over and over again, Kanda had hurt Alma. Alma hadn’t even done anything wrong, and now…  
  
Quietly, a sob broke from Kanda – low, and close to being inaudible. “I’m sorry,” Kanda whispered, as he leaned over, still holding Alma’s hand, and burying his face down. “I’m so sorry, Alma…”  
  
Broken. Kanda truly felt broken, and at his lowest. He had never even been one to cry, and to show that kind of vulnerability – but now, he just didn’t _care,_ and all Kanda could do was sit there, and mourn in his tears as he kept his face buried, and his hand over Alma’s.  
  
With his grief so strong, Kanda seemed to have lost focus on his surroundings. The darkness of the room, only illuminated by a single candle burning, and the remaining silence of the house that threatened to engulf them all. Kanda couldn’t hear anything beyond his own soft cries, as his guilt was close to overpowering him. Nothing else existed out of that moment, and Kanda was terribly unaware.  
  
He was so unaware, that Kanda didn’t even notice the flinch of movement in Alma’s hand.  
  
As Kanda mourned, Alma’s hand twitched again in movement. Then, the fingers shifted, as they wrapped back around Kanda’s hand in an instinctual way.  
  
But, Kanda still didn’t notice. His grieving was too potent, and so distracting that he didn’t see the slow way that Alma’s eyes fluttered open, and the hint of confusion that appeared in the prince’s eyes. Kanda was so consumed with his pain, that he didn’t even notice the way Alma turned his face, a worried and questioning look in his eyes when he saw that Kanda was there, quiet and crying.  
  
Carefully, Alma tried to sit up – but it was a bit difficult, and he still looked as though he were trying to awaken from a deep sleep. “Yuu…?” Alma began to asked, voice gentle and soft. “Yuu, what’s wrong…?”  
  
Despite its delicacy, it was Alma’s voice that broke through Kanda’s mind, causing him to look up. His face tear-stained and eyes filled with shock , Kanda stared, as he slowly began to register that Alma was there, awake and speaking. Alma was speaking, and the markings on his skin were beginning to fade, and the color had started to return to his cheeks.  
  
And Kanda could only stare, wondering if perhaps he were dreaming.  
  
Alma blinked, as he tried to wake up a bit more. A perplexed and concerned look appeared in his eyes when he saw that Kanda’s eyes were rimmed with red. “Yuu, why are you crying?” Alma asked, as he grew more worried, then looked around, not sure how he had ended up in his bedroom. He looked back at Kanda. “What happened…?”  
  
Without warning, Kanda moved, and immediately grabbed Alma and pulled him close.  
  
Surprise colored Alma’s expression. He still felt a bit lost, as he was trying to recall just what had happened. But, the embrace was warm and comforting, and soon Alma felt himself wrap his arms around Kanda as he melted into the other exorcist’s arms.  
  
Kanda continued to hold Alma tightly, and his shoulders trembled. “I thought I’d lost you…” He barely managed, as the confession came out in a small whisper.  
  
The words, though pained, caused something warm to fill Alma’s heart. Something warm, and something light – the kind of warmth and light that brought tears to his own eyes.  
  
Alma tightened his hold onto Kanda, and buried his face into Kanda’s shoulder.  
  
Neither of them let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE IT’S AN EARLY UPDATE. 
> 
> I finished 27 today, and wanted to just go ahead and post this chapter because the last chapter caused so much agony, and this one...ended on a much better note. It was definitely one of my favorite chapters to write, because it really carried a sense of healing within it, which I think was just something good for me to focus my attention on in general.
> 
> I always knew that the sleep Alma was going into would be a more psychological ordeal, and the dreams he had at the beginning would somewhat come full circle. The connection he has to his innocence definitely played a role in helping him to combat the venom, but I really did want this to be a more personal and intimate trial, and I liked the concept of the poison being something that infects you psychologically and breaks down not only your body, but your will to live as well (it’s something I just really was drawn to, and honestly, I think the Noah would use something like this. Mentally breaking down enemies seems to be a thing, especially when you get into characters like Road, and even Sheril considering how I interpreted him for this AU).
> 
> Also, I just...really wanted Alma to save himself. He was at that point where he needed to be the one to do it.
> 
> Again, I just really am happy with how this chapter turned out. I was looking forward to writing it, and the last scene with Kanda and Alma was easily one of my favorite bits in this whole AU to write. These kids have been through so much, like let them be happy. ;___;
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the update, and that the end of this chapter helped to heal some of the pain from the last one. <3 There are still a few more chapters to go (I just have 28, and the epilogue to finish AAAAAA), so there are a few more bumps, but I swear, there is a happy ending waiting in the future. XD
> 
> Thank you all for the support as always! <3


	25. The Lotus That Rises

It was not long before the rest of the exorcists discovered that Alma had recovered. Only moments, really. Tiedoll had gone upstairs with a heavy heart, and with the intent to check on Kanda- and he had nearly gotten the shock of his life when he saw Kanda was there, with a very awake and very _alive_ Alma.  
  
Everyone found out after, having heard the commotion. Within seconds, the room was crowded with everyone, as their questions and concerns came forward like a tidal wave unto them all.  
  
Frankly, Kanda just wanted them to back the hell off.  
  
Kanda glared. Of course, the others would want to know how Alma was doing. The prince had essentially been taken for dead, and hell, everyone had been mentally preparing to _bury_ him; the thought alone still made Kanda sick to his stomach, and his insides churned every time he thought about what a horrific mistake it would have been. No one mentioned it though, and for that Kanda was somewhat relieved. He didn’t think Alma would be ready to hear that part yet.  
  
Warily, Kanda glanced over at Alma. The prince was still a bit dazed, with a somewhat lost look in his eyes as he was still trying to process everything. Whatever had caused Alma to fall into a death-like coma had left enough of an impact that his mind wasn’t all that clear, and he was still trying to recall just what exactly had happened before Kanda and Lavi had found him.  
  
Lavi was currently the one most intent on asking questions, as a questioning spark gleamed in his one good eye. “I mean, do you remember if he – er, it – whatever it was, did anything? I don’t know, scratch or cut you somewhere? Or if it did anything weird?”  
  
Alma blinked, and thought. He was seated on the side of the bed, as Lavi sat in one of the nearby chairs. Alma didn’t look at Lavi though, as he reflected on what had happened. The whole incident had been strange, and unsettling; in some ways, it almost felt as though it had been a bad dream. It didn’t help that Alma’s mind felt so clouded, either.  
  
However, Alma remembered the apple, and something inside him coiled.  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed in Lavi’s direction, and he sneered in annoyance under his breath before Alma could answer. “You already asked that,” He muttered, perturbed by Lavi’s prodding.  
  
“No, earlier I asked ‘ _what happened_.’ There’s a distinctive difference in the wording,” Lavi pointed out.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes, not at all impressed with the Bookman’s focus on technicalities.  
  
“Shit, you’re really lucky,” Daisya spoke up, who was also in the room. He was standing a bit more near the door, with Marie. “Looks like those marks are even disappearing….”  
  
Alma said nothing to this, but his eyes glanced down toward his arms. Now, with the exception of the innocence, they were nearly bare. Alma hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the rest of his body yet, but from what he could tell they were fading.  
  
Alma wasn’t sure what the markings had signified, but he was relieved. He didn’t want to be reminded of the experience.  
  
Marie shifted, standing back near where Daisya was. “So what now?” He asked, voice low.  
  
The room seemed to quiet a bit. Even without Marie going into further detail, there was already an unspoken understanding of what Marie was referring to: what they would all do next.   Whether the exorcists would leave, and Lavi would return back to the castle.  
  
Whether Alma would go with Lavi, or change his mind.  
  
As a slight tension remained in the room, Tiedoll was the one who chanced to break it. “It’s the middle of the night now, but we’ve already stayed here longer than anticipated,” He expressed. “Eventually, those Arcaian soldiers will find their way here. It’s just a matter of time.”  
  
Kanda’s eyes flashed over to Tiedoll, as a hint of unease rippled within them. Then, Kanda’s attention moved over to Alma – who appeared to be enveloped in his own thoughts as he attempted to reflect on everything.  
  
Inside, Kanda felt something twist anxiously.  
  
“So we leave in the morning? Obviously we can’t stay here,” Daisya said.  
  
Lavi’s face briefly became pensive, as he frowned. “Yeah, and things are sort of time sensitive back…” He started to say, but trailed off, as his attention warily moved over to Alma.  
  
Still contemplative, Alma didn’t speak right away. His gaze was somewhat downcast, as his normally bright and vibrant eyes were filled with something heavy – leaden, as though it were weighed by iron.  
  
Another quiet moment passed, but it was Alma who broke it. “I have to go back...”  
  
This caused Kanda’s expression, which had been tense but contained for the most part, to briefly fracture. There was a slightly alarmed look in his eyes as he stared over at Alma, and his mouth opened as though to speak. However, Kanda’s throat was dry, and his vocal chords seemed to strain. No words came out.  
  
Tiedoll, who was also in the room, glanced over. “It wasn’t accidental what happened. Someone wanted to make sure you wouldn’t return,” He pointed out, the words making Alma feel uneasy. “But you could use it to your advantage…”  
  
This caught Alma’s attention, and he looked at Tiedoll with questioning eyes. Lavi, however, caught on immediately and commented. “Oh, right,” He said, as he looked over at Alma. “If this was planned – which, I mean it probably was – whoever set it up won’t expect you to come back. Means they might lower their guard a bit.”  
  
Alma looked warily at Lavi. “So…just show up there?” He asked, as he tried to ignore the way his nerves rattled. Despite knowing that he needed to go back, it didn’t diminish how intimidating the plan was.  
  
“Well, yes, and no. We still would have to be careful about it,” Lavi explained. “We just need to worry about getting you in to let the queen know what happened before anything else goes down…”  
  
Alma said nothing, and again there was a silence that befell the room. Kanda was still quiet as well, though he was now focusing his gaze elsewhere, body heavily tensed, as though something where about to snap.  
  
But, Kanda held back. He said nothing.  
  
Alma appeared to notice this, and his eyes hesitantly moved over to Kanda. There was a hint of worry that plagued his eyes, though it was unclear as to whether the worry was geared toward Kanda’s lack of responsiveness, or the overall idea of returning to the castle.  
  
Kanda didn’t meet Alma’s gaze, and no words escaped him. He only remained there, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, and face slightly turned away.  
  
Exhaling, Alma looked back at Lavi, and nodded. The action, although simple, took a strangely large amount of effort. “Okay,” Alma said, as he strained to keep his voice steady, and firm.  
  
For the remainder of the conversation, Kanda was silent.

* * *

  
  
Everyone finally retired for the night – or at least, what was left of it. There was a strange mood to the air though, with thoughts left unspoken and concerns hitched away. There were many thoughts, and comments, all that remained unsaid, yet with the unspoken understanding that come morning despite what had happened everyone would move in their own way accordingly.  
  
It made Kanda angry.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Kanda looked over. He had not yet left Alma’s room, as the prince was still awake, haven taken the chair by the bed. Seated on the bed with his legs drawn up was Alma, as he rested his chin in his knees thoughtfully. Alma was quiet as he appeared to be somewhat lost in his own head, eyes a bit distant and expression pensive.  
  
As Kanda stared, the hardness of his gaze lessened, but only until he thought of Alma leaving. Eyes frosting over, Kanda averted his attention, as he sat back in the chair with his leg crossed over.  
  
Alma looked up, just barely catching the hint of movement. There was a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes held concern. “Yuu,” Alma started, voice quiet.  
  
Kanda didn’t respond, and kept his focus planted firmly off to the side.  
  
This only added to Alma’s discomfort. “Yuu, you haven’t said _anything_ ,” Alma spoke, tone pinched with unease.  
  
A scowl painted Kanda’s features, and his nails dug into the sleeve of his shirt. There was the urge to look at Alma, but Kanda fought it. “Is there something you want me to say?” He grumbled, voice low yet carrying an incensed tone.  
  
Alma bit his lip, before taking a breath. His eyes remained on Kanda, as his brow knotted together. “No, but…” Alma began, trailing off as he strained to vocalize just what it was he wanted to say. “You…seem angry. Is it because I’m going back…?”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda scoffed quietly, but he said no more.  
  
Another breath escaped Alma, as his expression cracked a bit. “Yuu-“  
  
“I don’t have anything to say.”  
  
Alma stared for a moment.  
  
The next thing Kanda knew, a pillow hit him across the head.  
  
Kanda turned; there was a startled look on his face, which soon melted into a glare. Although it was a pillow, the thing had been hit across his head _hard._ “Alma, what the _fuck_ -!?”  
  
Kanda cut short, when he saw the look Alma had: one that was frustrated, and twisted into a scowl. “Don’t _do that_!” Alma broke, suddenly snapping back.  
  
Staring, confusion filled Kanda. He frowned. “Do _what_!?”  
  
“That – that _thing_ you do! Where you act like you care and want to talk one minute, and then just ignore me!” Alma expressed, as the words tumbled forward in a rush of heated emotion. “You’re acting like I’m going back as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, but it isn’t! _It isn’t easy_!”  
  
There was a somewhat stunned look in Kanda’s eyes, as he took in the sudden outburst. He clearly had not expected Alma to have snapped on him like that, and was now staring a bit of a dumbfounded manner as Alma tried to keep himself composed – which the prince seemed to be failing at.  
  
“I just,” Alma started to say, as he tried to catch his breath, attempting not to let his emotions overtake him. “I just don’t understand why you always do that, and I can’t tell if you’re mad at me for going back or _why_! I’m not doing it to hurt you!”  
  
There was a small crack of an inflection in Alma’s voice, like a twig snapping in the midst of a storm. Alma knew he was losing it, and that he was seconds from breaking. Already, the pressure had been piling onto Alma like a mound of sand, but to have Kanda potentially upset with him on top of everything was only bound to make it even worse.  
  
Kanda watched, noticing the way in which Alma threatened to crumble, and something in him seemed to switch off. “Damn it, Alma,” He muttered, before shifting his position. He wavered when saw Alma’s expression though, and just how _upset_ Alma seemed to be.  
  
A fraction of a second passed, and Kanda swiftly reached over, and grabbed Alma by the wrist.  
  
Alma froze, slightly falling into paralysis as he stared at Kanda. Kanda had not yet spoken, but when Alma look, vision hazed with moisture, he could see Kanda’s face was downcast, though his mouth was pulled into a grimace as his teeth gritted together.  
  
“Damn it, you really are stupid…” Kanda muttered, as he kept his hand clasped on Alma’s wrist. Several strands of hair cascaded downward, further obscuring his face.  
  
Alma blinked, before he glared back, taking the comment in an offended manner. “Because I’m going back? I told you-“  
  
“It’s not _that_ ,” Kanda cut in, voice startlingly strained. “It’s…”  
  
Alma quieted, as he heard the almost pained edge to Kanda’s words – something that was surprising, as well as bewildering to the prince.  
  
Kanda took a breath. “You…” He tried to say, though he seemed to be struggling, and Kanda could only to continue to clutch at Alma’s wrist in a way that almost seemed desperate. “You were just…just _lying there_. You weren’t waking up, and I…I couldn’t fucking _do anything_.”  
  
The words were raw, as they were pulled, and plied out from Kanda’s very own heartstrings. They were thick with something akin to regret, and burned against Kanda’s tongue as they came forward.  
  
“You were just lying there, and I thought you were dead,” Kanda forced out, as the confession came forward painfully – like salt pushing through a wound. “And I’m pissed, because I couldn’t do anything to stop it, and I’m pissed because when you go back someone will try to hurt you again, and I _fucking hate that_. I hate the idea of you getting hurt again, and I hate the idea of not being there to stop it!”  
  
Kanda caught himself there, as his chest shuddered. He hadn’t realized how emotional he was becoming – something that Kanda wasn’t used to, unless they were emotions ruled by scathing bitterness and icy anger.   These feelings were touched by hate, but truthfully were overpowered by something else – something softer, and fragile, yet horribly overwhelming.  
  
Alma remained still. He was rather taken aback by the sudden, heartfelt words, and hadn’t anticipated them. All Alma could do was stare, eyes somewhat misty as he looked at Kanda, who appeared so torn up inside, and pained with remorse.  
  
Gently, Alma reached over, and took a hold of Kanda’s other hand.  
  
Kanda stiffened a hair, but otherwise did not fight the touch.  
  
Alma didn’t let go. He kept his attention on their hands though, as his gaze was soft. “It’s funny hearing you say that…I still remember when you couldn’t stand me being here…” Alma murmured gently, as a fondness trickled into his voice. “It means a lot. To hear you say that.”  
  
Kanda’s face heated up a bit, but he didn’t say anything, as his breath hitched in his throat. He looked over at Alma.  
  
Alma didn’t raise his gaze, even as he continued to speak – words soft, and quiet. “Can we…can we pretend things are okay? Just for the rest of tonight…I don’t want to think about tomorrow…”  
  
Kanda paused. The request was small, and pleading; it made his heart ache with something longing, and something that yearned painfully. Normally, he would have sneered at something so childish. Kanda would not have even entertained the idea, and would have brushed it aside with ease.  
  
But, it was Alma who was asking, and there was something painfully difficult about saying no to Alma – and there was something painfully difficult about denying him this one, simple thing.  
  
Kanda nodded. “Yeah…” He responded softly, as he moved his grasp from Alma’s wrist, down onto where it was over Alma’s hand, while his other hand interlocked into Alma’s fingers.  
  
Alma remained quiet after that, as Kanda moved more to sit beside Alma. Almost immediately after, Alma leaned in as he rested his head upon Kanda’s shoulder, as he nestled his head into the crevice of Kanda’s neck.  
  
Wordlessly, Kanda wrapped his arms around Alma and kept him pulled close. Close, and safe – as safe as Kanda could keep Alma, in that moment. _‘Alma…’_  
  
The rest of the night, Kanda didn’t leave Alma’s side.  He didn’t think he could even if he wanted to.  The need to be there, to be beside Alma, was too strong and too deeply planted into Kanda’s core, as he continued to hold Alma even after the prince had fallen back asleep, breaths even and rhythmic against Kanda’s chest.  
  
Silently, Kanda promised that he wouldn’t leave Alma unprotected again.

* * *

  
  
Klaud couldn’t remember when she had last slept properly. It seemed like it had been forever ago, in another lifetime at this point; Alma disappearing, Suman being blamed…everything had come crashing down, like a levee shattering beneath a weight that had been gradually increasing for far too long.  
  
There had always been tension. Klaud had known this, and she had felt it. She had breathed it, practically, even before she was appointed to a general status. There had always been a strained relationship between accommodators and royals. The royals, without accommodators, were in many ways defenseless; they couldn’t do much to fend off akuma save for mediocre magic and protection seals. If the Noah were to return, they would be at a complete loss. The exorcists were thus the first and primary line of defense, and for that reason were treated almost as a commodity rather than a group of actual people.  
  
Bargaining chips. Objects. Weapons. The exorcists were always viewed these things, but seldom ever actual people.  
  
Klaud frowned. Lau Shimin was with her, as always, though the little white monkey was quiet, and appeared just as pensive as Klaud. They were in the training room, though it was empty and Klaud had not trained for hours now. She had ended up there, seeking a place for solitude, and simply never left.  
  
Faintly, she recalled when she trained with Alma last. They had been in the training room, and he had been struggling to activate his innocence. In so many ways, it had been difficult; Alma had never truly seemed to grasp the severity of the situation, having been so sheltered and removed from the more complicated, political side of things. Klaud knew she was just as much to blame for that as anyone else, and could only hope that Alma was somehow faring well, wherever he was.  
  
Because he wasn’t dead – Alma _couldn’t_ be dead. Suman hadn’t killed Alma, and Klaud would not accept that.  
  
Klaud would not accept that, but the same could not be said for everyone.  
  
It was a disgrace in so many ways, what with how quickly the whole of the castle was ready to accept that Suman was guilty. Like a wildfire, the whispers and rumors had spread, with an uncannily large amount of people comparing the situation to what had happened in Arcaia two years ago. Many of the castle servants were theorizing whether there was a connection, or whether it was a wave of exorcists beginning to turn their back on the royals. The whole ordeal was making Klaud sick with disgust; the rumors would help no one, and only fed the ongoing witch hunt that was being led.  
  
As Klaud pondered this, her mind moved to Sheril, and her blood chilled into icy loathing. Sheril had not been shy in voicing how he felt on the matter, and how he and Road – that unsettlingly vicious, terrible doll-like girl – were convinced that Suman had committed treason, and done something unspeakable to Alma.  
  
A lie. It was a _lie_ – it had to have been a lie. Sheril had never liked the exorcists, and he had been in Arcaia two years ago when chaos broke out. Klaud would be damned if Sheril had not had a hand in this, or in the incident that took place in Arcaia. It was too unnerving, and too much of a coincidence. It didn’t feel right, and somewhere deep down, Klaud just _knew_ that Sheril had played a part in this all.  
  
Just like how Klaud was sure that someone had played a hand in King Victor’s death.  
  
She remembered it too easily. The hunting trip that had been to hunt down a lead on innocence, and some strange activity that had been occurring in a nearby area in the woods. Klaud should have known something was wrong though; King Victor’s actions were often frowned upon by the other royals, considering how active he was in working with any exorcists and supporting them. The late king had been something of an advocate really, often voicing concern for how much the exorcists were forced to put on the line. He even had taken it as a personal responsibility to work with the exorcists on assignments when possible, feeling it his duty as a leader to play a more active role in procuring innocence.  
  
For this, Klaud had respected the late king. And for others, it had been a nuisance.  
  
The Arcaian nobles in particular had not had a steady relationship with King Victor. Klaud had not been able to see enough interactions between them to know the details, but she knew that on a few occasions King Victor had tried to work with the neighboring country on issues that went far beyond mere trade relations and border regulations. Several times, the king had even gone to Arcaia himself, with the last visit he had ever made being only days before he was attacked.  
  
Then, not even a year later, Sheril had crept into Tricia’s life, during a time of immense grief and vulnerability. And from there, Sheril had planted himself like a parasitic seed into Tricia’s life.  
  
It was too much of a coincidence.  
  
Faintly, Klaud heard a door open. Klaud stood more upright, and her amethyst-colored eyes flashed in the direction of whoever it was that had entered into the training room.  
  
It was Bookman.  
  
Klaud relaxed, but only by a fraction. “You never sleep,” She observed, as she and Lau looked over at the man. Truthfully, Klaud never knew when Bookman retired; he always appeared to be awake, and reminded Klaud so much of some strange apparition.  
  
Bookman didn’t comment on the observation. His eyes, which were so dark and almost hollow-looking, remained on Klaud pensively. “You’re worried.”  
  
Klaud’s eyes hardened, and she broke eye contact. “Of course I’m worried,” She admitted, knowing better than to even think of denying what Bookman already knew. “We only have a few days before they pass the sentence officially.”  
  
Bookman’s expression was somber. “Sheril has moved things along quite quickly. It doesn’t look as though there will be anything good to come out of this.”  
  
Hearing this, Klaud felt her shoulders tighten. She didn’t like the way Bookman so easily was able to point out the more grim nature of the situation, even if blatantly obvious.  
  
“It’s a mistake,” Klaud emphasized quietly. “Damn it, Suman _wouldn’t_ …”  
  
“Unfortunately, that conviction won’t be enough to resolve this,” Bookman pointed out.   “Unless somehow something more concrete arises, it’s looking to be rather bleak.”  
  
Klaud was silent for a few moments. Eventually, she spoke up again. “Your apprentice is still gone,” She noted, before looking over at Bookman warily. “Is he…?”  
  
“He is looking into something, though now I am wondering whether it was the right thing to have him do,” Bookman admitted, words even. “It’s too late now though, and I’m hoping that idiot apprentice returns quickly. Enough exorcists are being removed from the equation as it is.”  
  
As Klaud said this, her mind flickered to Suman, and then to Alma. One in her unit, and one anticipated to have been – and just like that, she was losing them both. _Had_ lost them both.  
  
When Klaud didn’t speak, Bookman broke the silence, words calm and oddly sage in nature. “The sentence hasn’t been officiated yet. Perhaps something will turn up.”  
  
Klaud still said nothing, even though the words offered the sense that perhaps there was a possibility of something happened. That perhaps something would happen that _could_ stop this all.  
  
But, she could not be that optimistic.

* * *

  
  
Tiedoll was awake early. That was not unusual – he was always one of the first to wake up, and was used to everyone else still being asleep for a while longer.  
  
The exception to this was Kanda, who sometimes would be awake as well. On a few occasions, Kanda would sometimes even be awake earlier; Tiedoll partially suspected it was due to the rigorous work routine Kanda had had growing up, which had consistently required early labor.  
  
So, it came as no surprise when Tiedoll saw Kanda awake. The young man was outside that morning, where it was so chilled that the grass was grazed with a light twinkling of frost. The air was so crisp that it cut like a knife, sharp and metallic as it pressed against one’s skin, and the sky was a pale, silvery gray.  
  
Kanda had not been far – just outside the back door, leaning against the wall of the house with a look of deep contemplation on his face.  
  
When Tiedoll walked outside, he closed the door behind him gently. Then, he went over to where Kanda was, and stood beside the younger exorcist.  
  
They both remained out there for a few moments, with neither saying a word.  
  
Then, Tiedoll spoke, finally breaking the silence with care. “It's been quite an eventful last few days.”  
  
Kanda didn’t say much to this, and his gaze moved off to the side, and slightly upward – to the window that was to Alma’s room.  
  
“Is Alma doing alright?”  
  
Kanda turned, and looked back at Tiedoll. There was a small, confused frown on his face.  
  
“You didn’t seem too intent on leaving him alone last night,” Tiedoll pointed out casually. “I assumed you’d stayed with him.”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda scoffed quietly. “Idiot always keeps getting himself hurt…”  
  
“I didn’t realize you’d started to care that much.”  
  
To this, Kanda was quiet, and he kept his attention slightly averted.  
  
A few more moments passed, and once again, a somewhat comfortable silence befell them. Despite the circumstances, it was almost tranquil; at least, Tiedoll found it to be. In many ways, the silence reminded Tiedoll of back when he had first started to interact with Kanda – who initially had been so soundless and distant, with an anger that always seemed to be brimming within, and a hard, bitter resentment in his eyes.  
  
So many times, Tiedoll had tried to speak to Kanda as a child. So many times, Kanda had been silent. Even after being moved to the garden, Kanda had been this way. But, Tiedoll had been patient, always visiting the boy to check on him, and see how he was doing.  
  
Eventually, it had paid off. And eventually, Kanda had started speaking. Never a lot, but certainly progress.  
  
Tiedoll suspected much of it was because no one had taken the time to talk to Kanda before then. Order him around, perhaps, but never talk to him.  
  
Tiedoll’s eyes shifted, and they moved over to glance in Kanda’s direction. Kanda was clearly tired, with bags under his eyes, looking as though he had hardly slept in who knew how long, and his expression was distant. Thoughtful.  
  
_Soft_ , even. But Kanda had never been soft, and Tiedoll had rarely seen such a side to him.  
  
_‘Interesting…’_ Tiedoll thought, though he didn’t comment on the observation aloud. He knew that doing so would only incense Kanda at best.  
  
A few more moments, a little more silence. Time passed, and the frost remained on the earth.  
  
Finally, Kanda spoke.  
  
“I’m going to go with him…”  
  
Tiedoll looked in Kanda’s direction. There was a genuinely surprised look in his eyes, and he blinked as he took in the words. “With…?”  
  
“Alma,” Kanda clarified, voice quiet. His eyes were still distant as he spoke, attention somewhat averted, and avoidant of looking Tiedoll in the eye. “I can’t…I can’t let anything…”  
  
The words strained to come out, but seemed to be trapped deep within Kanda. However, the implied confession came through.  
  
_“I can’t let anything happen to him again…”_ Kanda had wanted to say, though the words left him feeling vulnerable. Far too vulnerable, even in the presence of Tiedoll.  
  
A sense of understanding filled Tiedoll. Despite having been absent, he had not been blind to the notable shift that had seemed to have taken place between Kanda and Alma since returning. It was in the way they moved, and the way they casted glances toward one another when they thought no one was looking, and it was in the way they even referred to one another. There was something softer there, and gentler, and now more than ever it was apparent that something had developed between the two.  
  
Still, this did not erase the seriousness Tiedoll held onto, given the weight of the decision being made. But it was Kanda’s decision, and one that Tiedoll would support.  
  
Running was so tiring, and people could only do it for so long.  
  
Tiedoll looked ahead, and spoke. His tone maintained a conversational edge. “I wondered if something had happened while Marie and I were gone,” He noted. “Have you told this to Alma?”  
  
Kanda kept his eyes off to the side, and said nothing. That alone gave Tiedoll an answer.  
  
A hint of a smile, worn and a little sad, played at Tiedoll’s lips. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that. Worried, I’m sure, but glad,” Tiedoll said. “It’s not an easy decision.”  
  
Kanda’s expression was still pensive, as he remained quiet. He knew it wasn’t an easy decision, and it was already weighing on him with how poorly things could go on his end. But then Kanda would think of Alma, and of Sheril or Road or anyone trying to hurt him, and the idea was too horrid to handle.  
  
Kanda would never forgive himself if he let Alma go into that situation alone. If Alma put himself in danger, and got _hurt_ …  
  
“I’m proud of you, Kanda.”  
  
This time, it was Kanda who was surprised. He glanced over, dark blue eyes slightly perplexed.  
  
Tiedoll didn’t say anymore though, and neither did Kanda. And both of them stood outside for a few moments longer, as the frost on the ground began to melt.

* * *

  
  
When Alma woke up, Kanda wasn’t there.  
  
He sat up. The blankets had been bunched up around him, and Alma had apparently grabbed at them in his sleep, bringing them close to his chest as he wrapped his arms into them. Clearly an action that had taken place after Kanda had gotten up, whenever that had been.  
  
Alma looked around. The door was a hair ajar, but the room was otherwise empty. A pang of disappointment could be felt in Alma’s chest; he wished he could have woken up with Kanda. Especially given that Alma would never spend another night with him again.  
  
_‘He and the others are probably getting to leave…’_ Alma realized, as a heavy weight seemed to crush against his chest, stifling his lungs and making it a challenge to breathe. Today was the day that Alma and Lavi would begin to make their way back to the castle, while the other exorcists went off on their own way – to somewhere hopefully a little safer, and far away from Engelus.  
  
Very far away.  
  
Inside, there was a slight crack, but Alma refused to let himself shatter right there. He couldn’t afford to let that happen, and needed to be strong to go back. He couldn’t be weak now. _‘Not now…’_  
  
It was better this way – Alma knew that. The other exorcists had already put themselves at risk by sheltering Alma, and they needed to leave for their own safety. _Kanda_ needed to leave for his own safety. It was painful, and unfair, but it couldn’t be helped. Maybe, if Alma wanted to allow himself to be idealistic, something could change later on – but that was a long time away, and nothing more than a fleeting dream, unlikely to happen.  
  
Alma stood. He had to focus. He had to get Lavi, and they had to leave. There was too much at stake, and too much riding on this decision.  
  
That didn’t make it any less difficult.  
  
Heart heavy, Alma left the room, and headed downstairs. It was quiet, and for a quick moment Alma wondered if maybe not everyone was awake yet. It was possible, and Alma briefly found himself wondering if he might get a chance to speak to Kanda while it was still early. _‘If we could have one more moment…’_  
  
It was almost pathetic how badly Alma wished for that.  
  
Eventually, Alma ended up heading into the kitchen – which usually was where everyone was, if awake and not in the living room area. With this in mind, he wasn’t quite that surprised when he walked in, and saw everyone else was already awake. Lavi was there too, sitting back in a chair at the table, where everyone else was seated.  
  
Amongst them, was Kanda, who Alma’s eyes immediately gravitated toward.  
  
Alma quickly glanced in between everyone. It had been quiet when he entered, though he somehow had the inkling that a conversation had been taking place – or something. He wasn’t sure what, and suddenly felt a bit awkward. Alma also found himself a bit fearful that he might have slept in longer than he thought, and thus kept everyone somehow.  
  
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t realize you were all already awake,” Alma offered.  
  
“It’s still early. Most of us just woke up,” Marie said.  
  
Alma went, and took a seat in the one remaining spot – right beside Lavi, and across from where Kanda and Tiedoll were. Again, Alma felt the inkling to cast a glance toward Kanda; he gave in quickly, as his eyes looked over at the other exorcist, though there was an oddly pensive look on Kanda’s expression. Immediately, a part of Alma was tempted to ask what he might have been thinking about – but such a question felt far too private, especially in the company of everyone else.  
  
Instead, Alma shifted his attention a bit downward, and toward Lavi’s direction. He knew he could only put off asking for so long, as the inevitability of leaving seemed to loom above Alma’s head tauntingly. “Were you…ready to leave soon?” Alma asked quietly.  
  
Lavi paused. He then glanced in-between everyone else, but no one said anything right away. Taking this as some sort of sign, Lavi re-focused his attention back on Alma, and spoke. “Sure, if everyone else is.”  
  
Alma blinked, as confusion filled his eyes. “What?” He asked, not exactly certain if he understood. Surely Alma had misinterpreted Lavi’s statement – everyone else was getting ready to leave of course, but they would go their own way. However, given how Lavi had responded, it sounded like everyone would be going _together_.  
  
That couldn’t have been true though. The other exorcists had to keep hiding. They had to go elsewhere.  
  
Seeing Alma’s reaction, Tiedoll gave a small smile. “You look surprised.”  
  
Alma blinked again, and tried to speak. Was he missing something? Maybe he was still half-asleep, or maybe the poison had left some kind of effect on his mind. “I don’t understand.”  
  
Marie answered. “To get to that territory, we would need to head southeast. That’s the direction you’ll be heading in to go back to the capital,” He pointed out, with the logic being rather obvious now that it was pointed out. “It’d be much safer to travel back together.”  
  
Before Alma could comment, Lavi spoke again. “There were a lot of akuma on the way here. Personally, I was dreading just us having to deal with them,” He said, before adding with a grin. “This way we’ll just have a good old time heading back. Like a little party on the way.”  
  
Kanda snorted under his breath, for the first time giving any indication that he was even paying attention to the conversation. “It’s not a game. Don’t make it out to be one.”  
  
“Laaaame,” Daisya piped. “Seriously, you always have to be the downer of the group.”  
  
Kanda looked as though he wanted to comment back, but he paused, as his eyes happened to fall on Alma – who still appeared rather confused.  
  
There was a flash of something oddly intimate in Kanda’s eyes – soft, and private – and he averted his gaze quickly.  
  
Daisya looked over, and noticed that Alma was still being somewhat quiet – uncharacteristically so, given the prince’s usual, chatty nature. “What, you’re not tired of us already, are you?”  
  
Though the comment was made jokingly, Alma was quick to respond, fearful that his reaction may have in fact come across as strange or offensive. “No! No, it’s not that, but,” He started, as his eyes briefly looked at amongst everyone. “But won’t that be too risky? If it’s too dangerous-“  
  
“Damn it, can you just stop _worrying_ about everyone else?” Kanda finally snapped. “We’re going with you. There.”  
  
The table had fallen silent, and everyone’s eyes immediately turned to Kanda.  
  
Kanda’s face heated up, and he swiftly looked away.  
  
Alma was stunned. It had been one thing to hear the others indicate they were willing to go, but considering Kanda’s situation, Alma really had not been sure as to how Kanda might have felt regarding the situation. But to hear him have such a strong resolve, and to just voice it so _clearly_ …  
  
Turning his face, Lavi looked over at Alma. “So,” He started, mouth pulled into a half-smile. “We’re ready to go back – are you?”  
  
As the question was directed at Alma, he found himself hesitating. He looked around though, as he took in the looks of everyone else, waiting for his answer. But, the other exorcists’ looked on, with supportive resolve, and determination.  
  
And with them, was Kanda, whose eyes had also found Alma’s – securing, and filled with a wordless promise that somehow resonated deeply within Alma.  
  
Suddenly, going back did not seem so frightening.  
  
In response, Alma smiled. “Yeah.”  
  
He was ready to go back.

* * *

  
  
Swift. Fast. Quick.  
  
Like flickers of night, she moved – always fast, always quick. Always _quiet_.  
  
So quiet.  
  
Lulu Bell had to be quiet, though. She had to be soundless, and impossible to detect. Currently, her body was small, once again formed into that of a little black cat scurrying along, down the halls and in-between cracks. No one ever paid her any mind, and especially not now; the castle was too distracted, with everyone whispering in hushed voices over the tragedy and betrayal that had taken place.  
  
Good – that was good. It meant that the plan was working, and that they were succeeding.  
  
It would only be a matter of time, now. There was no way that the prince would return; Lulu Bell had been careful to make sure the poison got into him directly. A blend of dark matter and magic, it was something used to crush a person’s will into nothing, killing the body by killing the mind. Of course, there was a slight chance of survival – but it was rare, and had only happened a rare few times with some accommodators in the past.  
  
Lulu Bell wasn’t worried, though. The prince hadn’t had his innocence long enough to have a strong enough bond with it, and from the state she had left him in, it would have only been a short while before he would have died.  
  
More movement. Lulu Bell hurried, dodging a few maids as they spoke lowly, discussing the treacherous rumors that had spread throughout the kingdom like wildfire.  
  
Their voices faded, as Lulu Bell left, evading any other castle staff as she escaped into a more isolated wing of the castle, where she found a room that she was able to creep into.  
  
Inside, Sheril was with Road. Both were seated, and looked as though they had been expecting Lulu Bell.  
  
Lulu Bell jumped up onto a nearby chair, and sat upright as her tail curled around her.  
  
Sheril’s eyes, molten and burning a golden hue, moved over to Lulu Bell. “Well?” He asked calmly. “How did it go?  
  
Lulu Bell blinked her bright, yellow eyes as her tail swayed, and she moved, curling down as a sharp _meow_ escaped her.  
  
A hint of cruel amusement appeared in Road’s eyes, but she didn’t say anything.  
  
“Good,” Sheril responded. “Now that’s out of the way…”  
  
Road leaned back in her seat, as she rested her chin on the backside of her hand. Her eyes, also golden, seemed to burn like two flames amidst the darkness. “Maybe we should have some fun while we can. Everything else is already falling apart here,” She suggested. “Those seals for starters…”  
  
Sheril’s eyes flickered over to Road, and he hummed. “I think weakening them wouldn’t hurt,” He agreed. “I’m sure the akuma wouldn’t mind. They’ve been so isolated from everything.”  
  
Hearing this, Road grinned. “I’ll make a game of it,” She said. “Those are always such fun.”  
  
Sheril only smiled, and said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had meant to get this up on Friday, but aaaa, things got a bit away from me. XD (But two updates were posted last weekend, so I figured everyone would be good ;3).
> 
> This was a chapter that more was to deal with the fallout of the last few chapters - which were a whirlwind to write. Sometimes, these chapters can drag out for me, but I actually really liked working on this one. It’s finally getting to the point where a lot of the characters are coming to terms with what they’ve all been through, and how they want to continue on - namely Alma and Kanda. 
> 
> With Alma, the coma he ended up in was more or less a psychological trial that he really needed to go through before he could actually get to that point of being ready to return, and Kanda...Kanda has sort of gone through his own trial in this process as well. He doesn’t deal well with emotions, but has been put in a situation where he has to - and all the same, it’s not just Alma who’s been running from things his whole life. Kanda has too. (Running just really is a re-occurring theme in this AU, isn’t it?)
> 
> But...! BUT....!!! CAMARADERIE. EXORCIST CAMARADERIE. Honestly, I’m weak for the wholesomeness of support moments, and all I can really say is I was very happy to write that bit. There’s been so much angst and heartache in this AU, but it really didn’t feel right to actually have the exorcists go separate ways from Alma and Lavi. Of course, they’ll have to be careful and keep in mind the risks of this - the conflict isn’t resolved yet, and there’s still some pain and intense confrontations on the way. But if anything, they all have each other. (Which will be good, considering the somewhat ominous ending of this chapter. >.>)
> 
> It looks like I’ll be able to continue with weekly updates though, because I can officially say I have completed the epilogue (which is just chapter 29). So AAAAAAAA IT REALLY WILL BE FINISHED. IT WILL BE ALL HERE. SOON. XD (I still have to edit the other chapters and epilogue, and am working on some other things for NanoWrimo, but rest assured, the end is near!)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the update, and are having a happy weekend. <3 As always, comments and feedback is welcome! ^^


	26. A Broken Defense

A shriek broke through the woods, loud and piercing in its agony. Inhuman and shrill, the cry was a sound that could set anyone’s blood a chill, with its scream nightmarish and terrifying. The scream of an akuma: dead, unnatural, metallic.  
  
An attack was placed onto the creature, with several strings cutting through it as a series of melodious vibrations could be heard. The akuma was sliced apart, as it began to crumble into ashes, and wither to the ground.  
  
Marie retracted the strings, as they returned to his innocence: ten rings on each of his fingers. Just behind him, were the other exorcists, all having been ready to use their anti-akuma weapons if necessary, but thankfully not having to do so.  
  
Tiedoll frowned, as he saw the akuma disintegrate. “That’s the fourth one we’ve come across since this morning…and that doesn’t even include the ones we dealt with yesterday.”  
  
It was true – the group had left the previous morning, coming across several akuma on the way. After fending those off, and making it to nightfall, they had camped out for a short period of night. Everyone had taken turns keeping watch, with only one lower-level akuma having tried to attack them during the late hours. Their rest had been minimal as a result, and they had started moving again just before daybreak, all trying to reach their destination as quickly as possible.   
  
During this time, the akuma kept appearing. They had been mostly lower-level ones, easy enough to take out when confronted, but it still was one more obstacle to worry about.  
  
There was a pensive look on Lavi’s face. “They were getting pretty bad when I first came out here, but now it feels like there’s more of them…”  
  
Alma listened, but didn’t say anything to this. He was a bit farther back, standing beside Kanda. His eyes lingered on the destroyed akuma and its remains, as an anxious look flickered in his eyes. Faintly, Alma could recall his own experience when he was first in the woods alone: being cornered by akuma, metallic and striking. Being trapped, and being nearly killed.  
  
Alma shivered, as a snaking sensation slithered up his spine.  
  
Kanda glanced over in Alma’s direction, as a small frown was on his face. “Hey,” He spoke lowly, so no one but Alma could hear.  
  
Alma looked over at Kanda, expression tinged with unease.  
  
Kanda moved, and very lightly brushed his hand against Alma’s in a gentle nudge. In response, Alma’s body inched closer to Kanda, almost intuitively.  
  
Upon feeling the closeness, Alma’s eyes met Kanda’s, and a small, hesitant smile pulled at his lips.  
  
“Let’s keep moving,” Lavi was saying up ahead.   
  
As everyone was in agreement, they started again moving on their route. The air surrounding them was cold, and everyone was cloaked to help retain whatever heat they could. It didn’t help that it was so dark in the woods either, with most traces of sunlight being blocked out entirely.   There was a dampness in the air as well, as it soaked into the cool, mossy tree bark and seeped into the ground. And the earth was littered with dead leaves, and broken twigs that would lightly crunch beneath their steps.  
  
Quietly, Alma pulled his cloak close. He was grateful for the thick material, but it felt a bit damp, making it heavy and uncomfortable. If anything, the distraction was somewhat helpful though; it gave Alma something else to focus his attention on, rather than the fear of what would happen when he actually _did_ make it back to the castle.  
  
With the distant look remaining on his face, Alma’s pace slowed a bit as he walked, causing him to fall a bit behind the group. Kanda noticed immediately, and changed his pace to match Alma’s.  
  
When Alma still didn’t seem to snap out of whatever it was, Kanda frowned. “What’s wrong?” He asked, words a bit tense despite how lowly they were kept.  
  
Alma looked up, coming out of his daze a bit. Realizing how much he had slowed, he offered Kanda an apologetic look before trying to pick up his pace. “Ah, it’s nothing…”  
  
Kanda’s frown didn’t lessen, and if anything, his brow only pinched together further. He looked ahead, as they kept walking. “Tch. Nothing…” He grumbled, clearly not believing Alma’s words for a second.  
  
Alma exhaled. He knew he should have known better than to fib. “Sorry…” Alma tried, not wanting Kanda to think he was lying because of some ill-intent. “I’m just worried…”  
  
As the apology spilled forward, Kanda’s harsher gaze fractured, and a hint of regret was visible in his eyes. He looked at Alma, and his expression softened as he took in how withdrawn and uneasy Alma seemed.   
  
“Hey, it’s….” Kanda started, feeling slightly awkward with his wording. Sensitive. Damn, even with caring for Alma, it was still hell to navigate things with how _sensitive_ Alma was. “Don’t apologize for worrying. It’s fine.”  
  
The words came out a bit gruffly, and Alma looked over. Like earlier, another small smile appeared on his face, though this time it remained a bit longer.  
  
Kanda noticed this, and averted his gaze, face burning. “What?” He asked, tone a bit on edge.  
  
A small giggle, soft and warm, escaped Alma. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush like that before,” Alma admitted, as a sweet fondness trickled into his voice. “It’s cute.”  
  
Kanda sneered under his breath, trying not to let the use of the word “cute” pinch his pride too much. “Whatever…” He mumbled, hoping the chilly air would eradicate any of the heat from his face soon. The last thing Kanda needed was for anyone else to notice.   
  
But then, just as Kanda glanced back toward Alma, he saw something gleam behind the trees. There was a flash of something gray, and Kanda’s eyes widened. “Get down!” He shouted, before grabbing Alma and throwing themselves onto the ground – just as an attack was blasted at them, skidding over their bodies and hitting a nearby tree.  
_  
“Charity bell!”_  
  
Daisya’s attack countered almost immediately, with the metallic ball striking the akuma just as it crawled out from behind the trees. Clearly a weak one, it withered, falling to ashes quickly.  
  
Kanda opened his eyes. He was still on the ground, and had needed to shut them to avoid getting dirt and smoke into his vision. In his arms, he was still holding Alma, and the prince moved, also to look over at the destroyed creature.  
  
“Damn it, I’m getting _really_ pissed off at these things…” Kanda hissed under his breath.  
  
“Hell, that one didn’t even put up a fight,” Daisya commented, as he retracted the ball.   “What’s with these things? I mean, I don’t mind not getting killed, but they’re _weak_...”  
  
“Like they’ve just been made…” Marie observed, voice low.  
  
Tiedoll looked over, with a worrisome glance. “It is concerning. The akuma seem weaker, but there’s more of them. Like newly-created ones.”  
  
As Kanda helped Alma get up, Alma looked over at everyone else. “Do you think someone is making them?” He asked, as he tried to fight the nervous edge that trickled into his words.  
  
No one answered right away, but everyone seemed to exchange uneasy glances. Lavi answered. “If someone is, then this situation is way more messed up than even I thought…”  
  
It wasn’t a comforting response by any means, but it was all they needed to press onward.  
  


* * *

  
  
Klaud walked on, steps light and quick as she continued down to the cells.  She had not been down since her one attempt to speak to Suman – which had been nothing short of a failure, and a deeply frustrating experience.  Klaud knew that to an outside eye, it would have seemed pointless to try a second time; Suman had made no indication of wanting to speak to anyone, whether to give a confession or a denial.  He had only remained silent.  
  
It didn’t make sense, though – none of it did.  
  
The cells were eerily quiet, with even the lightness of Klaud’s steps being cacophonic.  Lau Shimin remained perched quietly on her shoulder, glancing around almost uneasily at some of the dark and vacant cells.  
  
Soon, Klaud approached her destination.  Like before, the cell had two guards posted, with one being the same from the last time she had been down there.  
  
That was good – hopefully they wouldn’t try to give her an issue like last time.  
  
As Klaud was soon faced with the guards, she glanced between them, ready to stand her ground as always.  “I need to speak with Suman,” She calmly stated.  
  
The guards looked a bit hesitant – particularly, the one that had been present the last time Klaud had come down.  Eyes a bit wary, the guard looked at Klaud uncertainly.  “I’m sorry,” He apologized.  “We were just given orders under no circumstances to let anyone speak to him – including you.”  
  
Surprise flickered in Klaud’s eyes, as she was rather taken aback by this.  Then, she frowned.  “Under whose orders?”  
  
“Sheril Kamelot,” The guard answered.  “He gave them under the request of the queen.”  
  
Eyes narrowing, Klaud didn’t speak at first.  She knew Sheril had been getting bolder in making any commands within the last few days, especially given how distraught Tricia was.  It was alarming, and unnerving; Klaud didn’t find it promising how easily Sheril seemed to manipulate Tricia, and a part of her wondered if anyone else even noticed.    
  
It was challenging, though.  Sheril was so careful with his words – incredibly so, to the point that it angered and frustrated Klaud.  He was skilled in rhetoric, and far too charismatic – a true threat in the world of politics.  
  
Klaud wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily, though, and like always she remained firm in her resolve.  “And did Sheril give a reason for this?” Klaud asked, her words unflinching as she spoke.  
  
The guard hesitated, evidently not having expected the counter inquiry.  He looked over at the other guard, as though seeking backup.  “Well-“  
  
“General!”  
  
Klaud turned, quickly recognizing the familiar voice.  When she looked, she was even more surprised to see Toma running toward her, down the hall and with a frantic energy about him.  
  
Klaud frowned.  “Toma, what is it?”  
  
Toma stopped just when he made it to where Klaud was, and took a breath, clearly having run at least a moderate distance.  “General,” He started, once he seemed to have caught his breath.  “General, there’s been a spike in activity near where the seals are.  Several guards stated they saw akuma close by.”  
  
As the words reached her ears, a look of shock appeared in Klaud’s eyes.  “What?” She asked, for a second wondering if she had somehow misheard.  There was always the risk of akuma getting closer, but the seals in place should have kept them far enough at bay that no one would risk crossing paths with them unless they ventured farther out.    
  
“They’re getting closer,” Toma reiterated.  “We’re not sure why, but-“  
  
Klaud gave one final glance back toward the cell, then looked at Toma.  “Let’s go.  We’ll look into it and see if maybe something has triggered it,” Klaud decided.  “I’ll meet you in the front.  We’ll round up a few guards to be safe.”  
  
Toma nodded.  “I can find some,” He said.  “I’ll see you there, General.”  
  
Toma hurried off after that, and Klaud hesitated.  For a moment, she found herself tempted to look back toward the cell, and to just try one more time to talk to Suman.  
  
But, Klaud couldn’t do that. She was now on a time limit, and as she left, the general could only hope that she might get another chance when she returned.  
  


* * *

  
  
“The general is going to look into the seals.  Should we do something?”  
  
Sheril looked over at Road.  She was looking at him with a curious twinkle in her eyes, playful and a tad malicious – almost as though she were  _waiting_  to do something terrible.  
  
Sheril hummed thoughtfully.  They were in his study, closed off from everyone else as always, room dark and curtains partially drawn.  It was dark outside to begin with, despite it being day; the sky had been overcome with dark gray clouds, which promised of cold winds and longer nights.  
  
Road leaned against the table, hands behind her back as she rolled onto her heels, rocking back and forth playfully.  “Well?” Road asked.  “She’s so annoying.  I wouldn’t mind playing with her – she’d be a pretty doll if anything.  That little monkey too.”  
  
The words were sweet along the surface, yet harbored an ominous edge.  Cold.  Threatening.    
  
Sheril shook his head.  “Leave her for now.  As lovely as it’d be to get her out of our hair, it’d draw too much attention,” He said, before smiling.  “There’ll be a chance for you to play with her eventually.”  
  
Road rolled her eyes.  “There better be – I’m already starting to get bored here again. Weakening the seals could only be fun for so long,” Road complained, as she tugged at a ribbon she had been fiddling with in her fingers.  She twirled it.  “How’s your sweet little  _wife_?”  
  
Sheril tilted his head to the side, expression neutral.  “Unwell, and taking to bed for the time being.  The physician will be checking in with her soon.”  
  
Road snorted daintily.  “You almost sound as though you care.”  
  
Sheril smiled.  “All an act,” He reassured.  “Soon we won’t have to do it anymore though.”  
  
Road’s eyes gleamed.  
  


* * *

  
  
The branches of the trees swayed, as the leaves brushed together. Several more hours had passed as the group continued on through the woods, with a faint wind, ice bitten and cold, dancing against their skin.   Even with it technically being during late afternoon, it was still dark, causing it to appear later than it actually was. This only seemed to added to the disquieting atmosphere, as the exorcists were already tense, and wary. Too many times they had crossed paths with akuma, and despite them having been weaker, there was still the constant uncertainty of not knowing what to expect next.  
  
However, this didn’t mean they were all eager to reach their destination quickly.   
  
This was particularly true for Alma. He kept feeling a pull of conflicting desires. A part of him was growing more desperate to get out of the woods – but, there was a second part that dreaded the finality of going back. Even with the resolve to do so, there was still a deeply planted fear within Alma: one that refused to let him be at complete peace. It nagged and pricked at his mind, and teased and taunted his anxieties mercilessly.  
  
A small breath. It would be fine. Alma could do this. Alma _had_ to do this-  
  
“We’re getting close. The seals are just ahead, and then we’ll be in the city limits,” Lavi said, breaking Alma’s tumultuous thoughts. Lavi glanced at the other exorcists, a small, languid smile on his face. “Nice thing is it’ll give us a break from the nasty little monsters hanging out here.”  
  
Kanda didn’t appear pleased by this comment, and sneered.   
  
Lavi responded. “What, you’re not thrilled?”  
  
“Shut up,” Kanda grumbled, not sure why the Bookman was suddenly feeling a need to point any conversation in his direction.  
  
Daisya bit back a stifle of laughter, apparently the only other individual amused by the exchange. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kanda _thrilled_ about anything.”  
  
Another glare from Kanda, scathing in irritation, was pointed at Daisya.  
  
As the interaction occurred, a thought reached Alma’s mind. They would be making it beyond the seals, and near where the castle was – but what did that mean for the other exorcists? Would they keep going their own way? While back at the house, Alma knew that the exorcists would at least travel with him and Lavi until they reached their destination, but Alma wasn’t sure if this meant that this would be their final goodbye.  
  
Concern flickered in Alma’s eyes, as an anxious tug of pain nipped at his heart. He had been somewhat distracted by the warmth and support offered by the others prior to actually venturing back, but now that they had just about arrived to the seal borders, reality was once more seeping in.  
  
Alma bit the inside of his cheek, and glanced over at Kanda. Kanda didn’t appear to have noticed, as his expression was still twisted into an annoyed frown as Daisya and Lavi prattled on ahead, while Tiedoll and Marie walked more quietly along.   
  
Hesitatly, Alma spoke, attention focused on Kanda. “When we reach the seals…are you all going to leave?” Alma asked, words soft.  
  
Kanda turned his face, eyes briefly flashing with something akin to surprise. Then, he quickly answered with a shake of his head, looking back ahead. “I’m not going.”  
  
Alma looked a bit startled, then concerned. “But aren’t you worried about-“  
  
“Looks like we’re here,” Lavi announced, being a bit farther up ahead.  
  
The group paused, as they bypassed where the seals were. They were now in a somewhat less dense area of the woods, and through some of the trees buildings could be seen: a sign of civilization, and the castle up ahead.   As Alma looked, he could feel his stomach flip-flop nervously. Home. He was actually going to be back home. Back where Klaud was, his mother, Suman, and-  
  
_‘Sheril…’_ Alma thought, as a shiver pinched his shoulders.  
  
Daisya frowned, as he looked at where some of the seals were. Tiedoll noticed, and raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Daisya?”  
  
Daisya tapped where one of the seals were. “These seem pretty weak…” He mumbled, more so to himself. Daisya turned, and looked over at Alma. “Oi, Alma – whenever you get things situated, you may want to have someone fix these.”  
  
“What?” Alma asked, rather confused.   “Why? The seals were always fine before…”  
  
“They don’t seem fine now,” Daisya answered, with a small shrug.  
  
“We’ll put it on our list of ‘things to do when shit gets settled,’” Lavi commented. “But now we need to get going. Alma – you should probably keep your hood up until we get to the castle gates. Don’t want anyone tipping Sheril off before you make it inside.”  
  
Alma paused, then nodded, before pulling his hood up over his head.   
  
Kanda made a move, and looked at Alma. “I’m going in with you-“  
  
“Woah, you actually were planning on going _in_?” Lavi cut in, a bit surprised. “I mean, nice and noble thing there, but um…it may be a problem? Especially if anyone recognizes you?”  
  
Marie nodded. “He has a point…you might be able to get away with it for a bit, but the minute anyone from or with ties to Arcaia sees you they won’t care to ask questions.”  
  
Kanda glared in response. “I’m not fucking _staying_ out here,” Kanda argued. “What if something happens? Sheril’s in there, and who knows what shit he’ll pull!”  
  
Tiedoll sighed, before speaking. “I understand you’re worried, but you can’t be reckless.”  
  
“It’s reckless to just let them go inside alone!” Kanda countered, as he nodded toward Alma and Lavi. “Anything could go wrong, and someone else should at least be there!”  
  
It was rash – Kanda knew this, and he knew how impulsive his words must have seemed. How impulsive they _were_. But, Kanda couldn’t pull back on this; he had already done that once, and Alma had nearly died as a result. That had been before Alma and Lavi had even left, and now, the two of them were about to walk into what wasn’t anything less than a lion’s den, and Kanda would be damned if he was going to let anything happen to Alma a second time.  
  
Kanda knew he would be putting himself at risk. He already knew that, but if it meant helping keeping Alma safe, he would do it.  
  
Alma looked over toward Kanda, mouth open slightly as though he wanted to speak. “Yuu-“ He started, though his voice seemed to break.  
  
“What if I go?” Daisya asked, causing everyone to turn in surprise. When Daisya saw they were all somewhat dumbfounded, he continued. “I mean, it’s not like _I_ was in Arcaia two years ago… “  
  
Kanda snapped out of his daze first. “No way!”  
  
“No way _what_? Dude, you can’t seriously think you’re going to go in there and _not_ get dragged off the minute someone recognizes you,” Daisya pointed out. “No one will know who I am, and this way there’s someone else going in to make sure nothing goes to hell.”  
  
Kanda quieted at this, and gritted his teeth. He didn’t like that he would still be getting cut off from Alma, and not know what’s going on – and on top of that, Daisya would be putting himself at risk.   
  
Marie spoke. “Daisya…does have a point. If anyone of us go in, it’d only be a matter of time before someone recognized us.”  
  
“But would you all wait out here?” Alma asked, finally managing to voice his own concern. “Someone could see you out here too…”  
  
Lavi glanced at Alma, then back to Daisya. “Okay – how about this? You come in with us, and hang there until we know Alma is with Queen Tricia? By that point things should be secure, and then you can book it back here to let everyone know things are okay.”  
  
Tiedoll’s eyes were pensive, but he didn’t outright object. “I can’t think of any other way if we’d want any sort of confirmation of how things are going…but that doesn’t make it any less risky.”  
  
“It’s _too_ risky,” Kanda snapped, eyes flashing at Daisya “How are you supposed to even get back out here!?”  
  
Daisya shrugged. “I’ll find a way. You’re talking to a _master_ of evasion,” He said, before adding with a grin. “Anyways, I’m the _only_ one here who has never been in a castle – this is going to be a notch off of my bucket list.”  
  
Kanda seethed silently, still incensed. However, before he could argue any more, there was a hand brushing against his, and soft fingers wrapping into his own, squeezing gently.  
  
Kanda turned, and could see Alma. Although hooded, his eyes seemed to somehow stand out as always, as they locked with Kanda’s. “It’ll be okay, Yuu,” Alma spoke, words quiet. “Daisya’ll let you know how things go, alright?”  
  
The words caused Kanda to falter a bit. He still was not all that supportive of the idea, and Kanda resented the fact that it was looking like he was about to be left out of this excursion. But, before he could try to argue further, Kanda already felt himself cave, as he looked at Alma’s face.  
  
Kanda tore his gaze away, heart pulling itself apart.   
  
With Kanda having quieted, Lavi spoke. He looked between Daisya and Alma. “If you guys are ready, let’s get moving. We shouldn’t waste anymore time.”  
  
Daisya nodded, as did Alma. However, as Daisya moved to start walking with Lavi, Alma hesitated. Like an anchor, something seemed to pull at his body, making it a struggle to move just yet. Every fiber in his being screamed at having to leave, and fought the decision, causing Alma to delay in moving even a fraction of a step.  
  
Alma glanced back at Kanda, and inside, his heart seemed to chip.  This was it. Kanda – and all of the exorcists – had at least been able to come this far with Alma, but truth be told, Alma didn’t know if he’d see them again after this moment. If he’d see Kanda again.  
  
He may never see Kanda again.   
  
Suddenly, Alma’s eyes threatened to burn, but he fought back any tears, not being able to afford breaking down now – not when he was about to finally return to the castle, and would finally have to stand his ground on everything. But inside, Alma could feel his heart cracking apart, and even more so when his focus landed on Kanda. Kanda who Alma had somehow grown to care for _so much_ , even in just a few small weeks.  
  
Before he could even think to continue on, Alma quickly threw himself onto Kanda, wrapping his arms around the other exorcist. He could feel Kanda stiffen for a moment, which made Alma nervous; he knew Kanda didn’t seem that comfortable with public displays of affection, but Alma didn’t think he could have resisted otherwise. Fortunately, Kanda seemed to relax a bit after a few seconds, and somewhat rigidly, embraced Alma back. As Kanda did this, Alma pressed the side of his face against Kanda’s, but only just long enough to discreetly brush his lips against Kanda’s cheek.  
  
The embrace was far too short though, as Alma pulled back, knowing he couldn’t linger any longer. There was a somewhat pained look in his eyes as he spared one last glance in Kanda’s direction, and despite the heartache he felt, Alma managed a small, reassuringly sweet smile.  
  
Kanda could only stare, somewhat stunned and unable to respond as Alma soon left, with Lavi and Daisya.  
  


* * *

  
  
On their way to the castle gates, it was quiet.  
  
Alma didn’t like it. The streets were not as busy, with only a few people out here and there – not at all like the normal hustle and bustle Alma would see from time to time when he could creep out to visit the Dark family on occasion. He knew that a part of it coud have been the time; it was getting close to evening, with the sky darkening even more. However, Alma couldn’t deny that something seemed…off in the air. Unsettling, and easy.  
  
Alma shifted, and tried to keep his hood up. He knew he needed to be careful, and to make sure no one would see him. However, his mind kept wandering.  
  
This only worsened when they passed where Suman’s family – Anna and Jaime – lived.   
  
Abruptly, Alma stopped walking. As his attention remained on the house, his heart immediately broke. How were Anna and Jaime faring? Was Jaime still receiving medical attention, despite Suman’s falsified treachery? Alma bit his lip, and nearly found himself going toward the house-  
  
Quickly, Lavi caught him. “Hey, hey, hey,” Lavi spoke, voice low. “Castle gates are this way.”  
  
Alma paused, and looked back toward the house. After a moment, he turned, and resumed walking along with Lavi and Daisya.  
  
As they continued, Daisya glanced around, and seemed to voice what Alma was thinking. “Kinda quiet out here…is it usually this way?”  
  
Alma shook his head. “No…no it’s not…”  
  
Lavi’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he glanced back at the two. “There’s a lot of talk right now. Especially regarding what people are thinking may have happened to Alma,” Lavi said, as his eyes seem to rest on Alma warily. “By this point, most are thinking you’re dead. Kind of a grim time when people think their future ruler is gone.”  
  
Alma stiffened at this. He hadn’t realized it had gotten this… _serious_.  
  
Moving along, the trio soon came to where they were nearing the castle gates. Up ahead, Alma could see several guards: a familiar, but strange sight. There were more than normal, Alma noticed, and that also cause a wave of bewilderment to fall over him. _‘Someone increased security?’  
  
_ Lavi glanced back at Alma. “Okay. Remember – we don’t want to speak to anyone unless it’s Queen Tricia. Maybe Klaud too, but no one else.”  
  
Alma nodded silently, and Daisya remained quiet, eyes wary and attentive.  
  
They approached the gates, and immediately the guards grew alert. Even with Lavi having his hood down, they gave no indication of recognizing the Bookman-in-training, or even any consideration of trust toward Daisya and Alma – who were hooded, and had their identities somewhat obscured.  
  
One of the guards spoke. “State your business here,” He said, speaking to Lavi, who was closest.  
  
“What, you guys already forgot me?” Lavi asked, tone a light. “I’m Bookman’s apprentice. And he’s probably going to want to talk to me.”  
  
The guard frowned, and didn’t appear all that convinced. His attention flickered beyond Lavi, to where Alma and Daisya were. The guard then returned his focus to Lavi. “I can’t let you inside.”  
  
For a fleeting moment, Lavi seemed to falter. But, he tried recover, keeping his demeanor amiable. “Come on, you can’t really be serious now, can you?”  
  
The guard was unmoving in his resolve, and the severe expression he wore never once cracked.  
  
Inwardly, Lavi cursed. Well, this was going to be annoying. Somewhat warily, Lavi chanced a glance back toward Alma.  
  
Alma took a breath, and stepped forward. He pulled his hood down.  
  
The guard did a double take, before his eyes bulged in surprise. “P-Prince Alma!” The guard stammered, clearly unprepared to see Alma right there in person.  
  
Alma tried not to let the guard’s shock distract him, and forced himself to focus. Doing his best to keep his voice firm, Alma spoke up. “Lavi found me, and accompanied me back,” Alma stated. “I need to speak with my mother.”  
  
The guard nodded. “Yes, yes, of course,” He said, before nodding to the other guards to move out of the way – who appeared equally shocked by the unanticipated arrival of the prince.  
  
As the guards moved, Daisya let out a low whistle, and side-eyed Alma. “Look at you, using that royal charm.”  
  
The three of them started walking, but Daisya was momentarily halted by one of the guards. “Who’s this one?” The guard demanded.  
  
Alma spoke quickly. “He’s an ally – let him through.”  
  
The guard looked a bit wary, but complied. Daisya grinned.  
  
After being let through, the three of them walked along with the head guard accompanying them inside.  They entered in through the main doors, though Alma could see once inside that the castle was just as quiet as the town had been. It was an odd, peculiar feeling, and one that made Alma want to shiver; it reminded him eerily of the nightmare he had experienced, and had Alma not been with Lavi and Daisya, he might have lost any sense of nerve right there.  
  
_‘Breathe,’_ Alma reminded himself, as he fought a small tremor in his chest.   
  
“Where’s Klaud?” Alma asked, shifting his focus elsewhere in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. Klaud – Klaud would be good to see. If Alma could see Klaud, he knew he would be fine until he was able to speak with his mother regarding what had happened.  
  
The guard paused, and glanced back at Alma and the others. “The general is currently out – she’s investigating some suspicious activity near the seal marks.”  
  
Inside, Alma’s heart sank. Klaud wasn’t even in the castle then? The thought made him anxious, and he felt strangely more vulnerable.  
  
Lavi stepped forward, speaking up. “We need to speak with Queen Tricia.”  
  
The guard nodded. “I understand, but her majesty hasn’t been seeing anyone,” He answered, voice solemn as he then looked at Alma. “I can let her know of your return – she may be able to speak with you, but she’s been unwell and has been in bed rest.”  
  
Alma’s expression visibly fractured at this. His mother was that sick? He swallowed. “Is…is she alright?”  
  
“I can’t say, your highness.”  
  
Alma paused, then nodded wordlessly.  
  
“If you follow me, I can take you back to your chambers,” The guard said, before his eyes flickered to Lavi and Daisya. “They will have to wait here though.”  
  
Alarm filled both Lavi and Daisya, and most of all, Alma. Alma looked at the guard questioningly. “Why can’t they come with me?”  
  
“We’re under strict orders not to let anyone into the wing with the royal family’s chambers considering all that’s happened,” The guard explained. “It’s for your own safety, and guards will be stationed outside of your door until things get situated.”  
  
Alma wavered. He didn’t like this – this wasn’t how it was supposed to work, and he didn’t want to be separated from Lavi and Daisya. “Can’t I wait in another room with them?” Alma pressed, as he tried to keep his tone steady and firm. “I don’t want to be separated from them. Not until I speak with either Klaud or my mother.”  
  
“I’m sorry, your highness, but these orders came from your mother. She requested we take stricter precautions if anything happened or if you were found.”  
  
This caused Alma to pause. Alma may have been the prince, but his mother was the queen – and if Alma tried to give orders, he wouldn’t be able to overpower anything she had put in place. Not without her consent.  
  
However, a part of Alma was wary – was wary that it might not have been his mother who had put this in place after all.   
  
Alma was at a standstill though, and he didn’t know what to do. Somewhat defeated, he looked back at Lavi and Daisya, before returning to the guard and nodding. “I see…” Alma said, voice growing quiet.  
  
Lavi frowned, clearly displeased with the turn of events.   Quietly, he whispered to Alma. “I’m going to find Bookman – he’ll know what to do. Just keep reiterating you won’t speak to anyone else.”  
  
Alma nodded.  
  
The guard looked between them, and then to Alma. “Follow me, your highness.”  
  
A wave of nausea passed through Alma. His legs felt heavy, and his heart was hammering in his chest. Anxiously, he gave one final glance back toward Lavi and Daisya.  
  
Then, Alma turned, and followed the guard.  
  


* * *

  
  
There was a knock on the door, causing Sheril to look up. He had been in the room connected to Tricia’s chambers, while awaiting the physician – a more polite, customary action really. One to help perpetuate the image of being a caring and conscientious husband, and an action that Sheril would take again and again if it meant solidifying his position.  
  
It was never an action made from actual care.  
  
Tricia was a doll – she always had been. She had been a doll from the moment Sheril laid eyes on her: weak and fragile, even before King Victor’s death. The woman had been such a delicate thing, like a protected dewdrop on a brittle flower petal. It had only been a matter of time before something would break her, and it seemed, with Alma’s untimely disappearance, that this had been it. This had been the event to do her in.  
  
Slowly, she had collapsed: broken, and shattered. If anything, the denial had kept her going a bit longer, but her will was weak, and Sheril had been able to manipulate her with ease.   He had been able to usher her into bed, where her will continued to crumble to dust, and soon enough, she would be only but a shell.  
  
Only a shell, and nothing more.  
  
The door opened, and Sheril raised an eyebrow. He was mildly surprised to see it was a guard, who looked frantic and on edge.  
  
“What is it?” Sheril questioned, voice smooth.  
  
The guard looked at Sheril, eyes worried. “It’s…it’s the prince,” He said. “Prince Alma has returned.”  
  
Legitimate shock filled Sheril’s eyes, which flashed darkly as he turned his face toward the guard in a sharp, swift manner. “What?” He asked, words spilling forward like sharp blades of ice.  
  
The guard looked a bit surprised by the reaction, but answered.   “Prince Alma…he returned, and is alive. He’s requested to speak with Queen Tricia. I let him know she is unwell, but he is insisting he only speak with her and no one else-“  
  
Sheril stood. “Where is he?”  
  
“In his chambers,” The guards responded. “But he really seemed distressed, and only wanted to speak with either the queen or the exorcist general-“  
  
“I’ll see him,” Sheril spoke, words hard. He then smiled at the guard, eyes dark. “I am his stepfather, after all.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Klaud frowned. She was outside, with Toma as well as another finder and two other guards. They had ventured out, prepared and eyes keen as they looked for any signs of foul play. The group had just reached the city limits, making it to the seal marks. No akumas had been sighted yet, but everyone was tense.  
  
Klaud looked back at Toma. “Was it near here?”  
  
The finder nodded. “Yes,” Toma said. “Here, as well as a few other areas.”  
  
Frown deepening, Klaud nodded. She turned, and addressed the other finder and two remaining guards. “Keep a lookout – more than likely if there’s an akuma nearby, it’ll be hiding. Don’t let your guard down.”  
  
The others nodded, and Klaud walked forward, as she began to scope out the area. So far, she could see nothing blatant – but that didn’t mean that the group was safe, or alone for that matter.   The trees, although more sparse than the deeper parts of the woods, were still dense enough that anyone or anything could have easily concealed itself, with the shadows and leaves acting as a shield against the naked eye.   
  
Klaud watched, and everything was still.   
  
Suddenly, Lau Shimin began chattering, voice shrill and agitated. Klaud’s eyes flickered over to the small monkey on her shoulder, as a chill danced along her spine.   She then shifted her focus forward, where Lau seemed to be placing his attention toward as well.  
  
Toma made a move to catch up to Klaud, but the general turned, and held a hand, wordlessly indicating for him and the others to wait.  
  
Toma stopped, as did the others.  
  
Klaud turned back, and took a few steps forward. Her eyes zoned in on one area in particular.  
  
Without any delay, Klaud pulled out her whip, and cracked it in a precise motion against the ground: a signal.  
  
Lau Shimin was the one who reacted. Chattering shrilly and screeching, there was a light, as the innocence Klaud harnessed was activated – something that was merged deeply into the monkey’s blood, and caused the animal to shift. Jumping off of his master’s shoulder, Lau’s body morphed as a viciously bright light enveloped it, as it increased into a monstrous size, form twisted and altered into a towering, simian-like creature.  
  
The creature – what was once Lau – snarled and growled, as Klaud stood beside it. She was oddly small in comparison, but didn’t waver in the innocence’s presence, and stood back as the simian-beast charged forward, going to attack whatever it was hiding behind those trees.  
  
There was another flash of light, and Lau Shimin was blocked – and surprisingly, not by that of an akuma.  
  
Klaud watched, as a startled look appeared in her eyes. Lau had been blocked by some of kind weapon – a cross and a scepter of sorts, which sparked emerald-white light. The color of light emitted by innocence.  
  
“Lau, pull back!” Kaud commanded.  
  
The monkey, which had been trying to force its way through the weapon and the strange, light-like barrier created, did so – though it appeared hesitant. Still growling lowly, Lau Shimin returned to where Klaud was.  
  
“Show yourself,” Klaud instructed, knowing that that it wasn’t something hiding, but some _one_.  
  
There was a moment, and then a rustle. From behind the trees came three figures – all hooded and cloaked.   
  
The first figure – the one who was carrying the strange, unidentified innocence, lowered his hood to reveal he was a middle-aged man with glasses and thick curly hair. “We mean no harm,” The man said.  
  
Klaud frowned, and she looked at the anti-akuma weapon the man was wielding. A scepter and a rod…Klaud recalled hearing of someone with that sort of equipment type innocence.  
  
A beat passed, and it dawned on her.   
  
Klaud’s face whipped in the direction of the man, her eyes hardening. “You’re the general from Arcaia,” She spoke, her words cool.  
  
Tiedoll didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, he didn’t argue. “In the flesh,” He admitted, tone wary. “You’d do best to place your focus elsewhere though.”  
  
Klaud tensed a bit at this, not at all fond of the wording. Her attention briefly moved to the other two figures, and her eyes were untrusting. If this was the general from Arcaia, then did that mean one of them was…?  
  
Eyes narrowing, Klaud looked back at the general – Froi Tiedoll, if she recalled the name correctly. “And where would that be?” She asked, voice still cool.  
  
“Prince Alma has just returned. We accompanied him on the way here, and he just went into the city limits not too long ago with the Bookman’s apprentice.”  
  
Klaud froze, and everything seemed to fade from focus. “Alma’s back?” Klaud asked, rather stunned.   
  
Alma. Alma had returned. Alma was back, and –   
  
Klaud stiffened. Alma was back. Alma was back, and had gone to the castle, but Klaud wasn’t there, and Tricia was unwell….  
  
Swiftly, Klaud turned back to the guards and finders who had accompanied her outside. “Everyone turn back – go to the castle now!” She ordered, alarm trickling into her words.  
  
Before anyone could ask, Klaud returned her attention to Tiedoll. “Did Alma say what he was going to do or where he was going exactly?” She asked, voice urgent.  
  
Tiedoll nodded. “He and Lavi had planned to try to speak to the queen – or you, as I’m assuming you’re the exorcist general here. Klaud Nine, correct?”  
  
Klaud nodded, but her expression was severe. “Yes, but Queen Tricia is bedridden. She can’t see anyone, and-“ Klaud started, before taking a break. “Sheril is the one currently overseeing everything-“  
  
“ _What_?” Kanda snapped, speaking for the first time.   From beneath his hood, his dark blue eyes flashed. “Damn it, this is another trap they’re walking into!”  
  
Klaud tensed. She didn’t know the whole story, but somehow, deep in her gut, she knew enough to know that something was wrong, and that this group of strangers was all she had to go off at the moment. In a split decision, she spoke. “Follow me – if we hurry back-“  
  
There was a sudden blast, as an explosion took place. Everyone nearly fell from the impact, with dust and dirt polluting the air. As the smoke cleared, the glint of something metallic and repulsive could be seen.  
  
An akuma. It was an akuma, but a larger one – stronger too, and at least a level two. It had a board, armor-like body with blade-like limbs, and a revoltingly horrid face that was hideously _dead_ and doll-like.  
  
The akuma didn’t wait, and readied another attack.  
  


* * *

  
  
Alma was going crazy.  
  
He couldn’t handle it – the waiting, and the silence. The prince had been escorted to his chambers immediately, with several guards stationed outside the doors as promised. It should have offered Alma some comfort, but only placed him on edge even more – he had never had guards placed outside his bedroom doors before. There had never been a reason to have such done.  
  
Being inside his room offered little relief as well. Coming back and seeing everything as it was the last Alma had been there was _eerie_ – it was ghostly, what with how untouched everything in the room was. The room he had been raised in for so many years, and the bed he had slept in….it even _smelled_ just the same, with the familiarity being painfully brutal.  
  
Alma had wanted to come back to this room so badly. To his own bed. His own space. And now, he was too unnerved to be alone in it.  
  
He had tried sitting on the bed, then moving about when that didn’t work. Alma was too rattled though, and felt anxious. He had made a point to reiterate to the guard that he didn’t want to speak to _anyone_ unless it was Klaud or his mother, and fortunately the guard had _seemed_ to understand. But, Tricia was unwell, and Klaud wasn’t even in the castle…so what did that mean for Alma? Did it mean he was to remain in his room, isolated and cut off until one of them were available?  
  
Alma stopped mid-pace, as he wrung his hands together before gripping at his arms, hand tracing over his innocence. He wished he hadn’t had gotten separated from Lavi and Daisya, and that he had stood his ground more. He wished that he were with Kanda, and hadn’t had had to leave him in the woods.  
  
Kanda. What was Kanda doing now, Alma wondered? Was he just out there, waiting for Daisya to return with Tiedoll and Marie? Or had something happened?  
  
Alma felt sick. He felt like he was going to be sick as these thoughts twisted in his head, making him worried and anxious.   But he couldn’t do anything now except wait.  
  
Alma exhaled. He just needed to tell the truth. He needed to tell the truth to his mother, and Klaud, and hopefully things would get straightened out.   
  
Hopefully.  
  
Faintly, Alma could hear voices outside his door. He froze, just as he could hear the door open – Alma had been facing away from it, and before he could turn, he heard someone walk in, and his heart seemed to increase in speed as it pounded against his ribcage.  
  
Alma turned. God, he was praying for his mother or Klaud – _any_ of them.  
  
But when he looked, his heart seemed to stop, and Alma’s blood turned to ice. Suddenly, Alma couldn’t move, and he couldn’t only _stare_.  
  
Dark eyes. Dark eyes so cold and heartless that they were more fearsome than the eyes of any akuma Alma had yet to encounter. _‘No…’_  
  
Sheril smiled. “Hello, Alma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where what I affectionately am referring to as the “clusterfuck” of the story goes down. As you’ve probably gathered from this chapter, the next one will have a /lot/ of action, as well as a lot of scene jumps. It’s sort of the price I’m paying for using so many characters in this AU, as I can’t just...not write about them without it being lazy and empty-feeling. At the same time, action is literally the bane of my existence, and I never am sure how it’ll turn out (I mean, I think this chapter and the next are okay, but ehhh? EHHHH??).
> 
> It’s a bit of a messy with how layered this plot has gotten, and with Alma and the other exorcists showing up (and now Sheril and Road taking more action on top of that). There’s a lot at stake, and...it’s a ride. I really don’t have much more to comment on that without spoiling anything, but ah. I hope you guys enjoy it when it comes. ;3
> 
> As for the end of this chapter...that meeting was bound to happen, and a lot has been leading up to when Alma would have to face Sheril. So that’s going to be something you all get to look forward to as well.
> 
> Thanksgiving is coming up this week, so I’ll have a lot of time off - which will be good, because if all goes well I’ll get an early update in. We’re almost to the end!


	27. The Fallen Siege

_“Hello, Alma.”_  
  
Alma was frozen. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was stare – stare into the eyes that had for the past few weeks given Alma nothing but nightmares and endless torment. Eyes that Alma had dreaded looking into, and eyes that Alma wished – that Alma had wished so _desperately_ – to never look into again.  
  
Sheril’s eyes.  
  
Sheril. Sheril was there, tall and cold and smiling. That smile that never once truly reached his eyes, and that smile that was always _taunting_. Alma had never liked that smile. Not even when he was ignorant, and wanted to believe that Sheril had harbored no ill-intent. But now, that smile was staring Alma in the face. No nightmare. No hallucination. Just reality.  
  
And he was alone. Alone, and only with Sheril.  
  
Paralyzed – Alma was _paralyzed_.  Was it his fear finally crashing down onto him, overwhelming and smothering Alma so much that he couldn’t even  _react_?  
  
Move.  Alma had to move.  He had to do  _something_ -  
  
Sheril didn’t miss a single moment of Alma’s inability to even formulate a word.  Titling his head to the side, he only continued to smile, as his onyx-colored irises gleamed.   “You don’t look all that happy to see me,” Sheril spoke, tone mockingly good-natured.  False pleasantry.  “I’m surprised you’re not relieved to see a familiar face.”  
  
Lie.  All a  _lie-_  
  
Alma’s insides trembled, but he fought to steady himself.  “What are you doing here?” He eventually managed, though the words were so distant that Alma wasn’t certain if he had actually spoken them.  
  
But, Alma must have – because Sheril responded.  “I came to check on you, of course.  Is that so hard to believe?  You’re my stepson.”  
  
_‘Liar.’_  
  
“No..no you didn’t,”  Alma spoke, words still soft.  Soft, but firm.  “You…you sent Suman.  You sent him to  _kill_  me-“  
  
“Is that what he told you?” Sheril asked, cutting off Alma with ease before the prince could even try to continue.  “Honestly, Alma, you should know better – Suman only wants to protect himself.  Even if it means lying to you.”  
  
_‘No,’_  Alma thought.  No –  _Sheril_  was the one lying.  Sheril was lying, and he was already trying to twist the truth around in Alma’s head.  Somehow, Sheril was trying to string Alma along, using rhetoric and words to confuse and cause Alma to lose his resolve.  
  
Alma wanted to speak, and to argue – but his throat was dry, and it felt as though there was sand clogging his lungs.  He was stuck.  Alma was stuck, and falling into the same pattern that he always did with Sheril: shutting down, and quieting his voice.  Never speaking back.  Doing nothing.  
  
_‘Something,’_ Alma wanted to shout at himself,  _‘Damn it, do_ something _!’_  
  
The silence was deafening in Alma’s own ears, as his voice pathetically seemed to fail him.  Sheril, however, did not appear offset by this, and if anything only appeared pleased – unnervingly so.  
  
Sheril took a step toward Alma, approaching him.  “You must have been through so much.  I can’t even begin to imagine how _traumatizing_ it’s been....”  
  
There was a small, graceful movement – Sheril moving his hand, fingers long and spidery.  They reached forward, and one brushed against Alma’s cheek.  
  
The touch was one of ice, and all that was needed to snap Alma out of his stillness.  
  
With a sudden, abrupt motion, Alma pulled back.  “Don’t touch me!” He snapped, as something internal seemed to  _break_.  
  
Sheril paused, a bit caught off guard by the prince’s outburst.  However, he quickly re-composed himself, and his lips pulled int a thin frown, as his eyes hardened.  “You’re upsetting yourself,” Sheril emphasized.  “You’re distressed, and aren’t thinking clearly-“  
  
“My thinking is clear  _enough_ ,” Alma argued, words surprisingly firm as he cut Sheril off, managing to silence the man briefly.  Alma had never talked back before – not like this.  Honestly, Alma hadn’t even been certain that he  _would_  have been able to speak back before now.  He had always frozen up so easily in his stepfather’s presence, never wanting to make anyone angry or step on anyone’s toes.  But, Alma hadn’t known any better at the time; he hadn’t know the twisted things Sheril was planning, or the malicious intent his stepfather had harbored all along.  Alma hadn’t known then, but he knew now.  
  
And, shit, Alma was  _done_  with it all.  
  
“I know you’re the one who sent Suman to kill me – just like you probably had Road give me that mirror, and then had that  _thing_ ,” Alma emphasized, referring to the Kanda double, “Come and poison me.  So you can keep lying all you want – I will  _never_ believe another word you say!”  
  
When Alma finished speaking, Sheril said nothing.  He only stared, expression cool as he met Alma’s gaze – which burned bright cerulean in opposition to Sheril’s.  
  
For a moment, neither of them spoke.  
  
Eventually, it was Sheril who broke the silence, the corners of his mouth curling as he moved to speak, and his gaze one of frost.  “I always warned you to be careful of what you say.”  
  
Almost immediately, Alma’s mind was alerted.  Driven by instinct and impulsion, he moved.   Grabbing nearby chair, Alma threw it, quickly distracting Sheril.  His stepfather cursed, while Alma booked it toward the door, running, need to get out before something  _happened_  –   
  
Alma stopped, body freezing.  
  
It was the strangest sensation, almost as though there were strings locking Alma in place – as though he was being trapped by some odd, invisible force.  Silently, Alma started to panic.  Why couldn’t he move?  He had frozen up earlier, but that had been different – that had been out of his own fear and anxieties.  But  _this_ …this was something else.  This was something more real, yet unexplainable, and Alma could feel his pulse hammering in his ears.  
  
_‘I can’t move,’_ Alma realized.   _‘I can’t_ move _…!’_  
  
Sheril, having gathered himself after the chair antic, approached Alma.  His gaze was steely and unfeeling, as he walked over to where he was standing beside the prince.  As he did this, Sheril smiled coldly.  “Why don’t you go clean up that mess you made?”  
  
Alma couldn’t do otherwise.  Like a marionette on a string, his body moved against his own will and Alma walked over to the chair, picking it up as though his body had a mind of its own. It was unsettling, and horrible – Alma wasn’t in control of his body, and somehow Sheril was manipulating him.  _Physically_ manipulating him.  
  
Once Alma had re-set the chair, Sheril spoke again, his words a harsh command. As he spoke, his fingers moved – long and spidery, as though he were pulling at threads.  “Sit down.”  
  
Again, Alma complied.  His muscles were tense as he instinctively felt the urge to fight the command, but he couldn’t do so; with a grimace, Alma sat down, his eyes glaring over at Sheril.  
  
Sheril walked over to Alma, and stared.  “Such a nuisance…” He murmured.  There was a mild hint of disgust in his voice. “It would have been so much easier if you’d died. Now I have to figure out what to do with you…”  
  
There was the impulse to struggle – the impulse to move. Gritting his teeth, Alma tried to do just this, even if only enough to activate his anti-akuma weapon. But no matter how hard Alma tried to concentrate, he _couldn’t_ move. Even speaking seemed an impossibility, as Alma’s body felt constricted and confined to the chair.  
  
Sheril noticed Alma’s frustration, and a look of amusement appeared in his eyes.  Walking over, he knelt down so he was facing Alma at eye level. “I’m going to go take care of a few things, but by then I’ll hopefully know what it is I’m going to do with you. For now, just stay here and behave.”  
  
The tone was demeaning and patronizing, and had Alma not been under whatever power it was Sheril was using, he would have snapped right there. However, the most he could do was give Sheril the dirtiest look he could muster, glaring as his eyes were defiant and burning in anger.  
  
Sheril was unfazed. Standing, Sheril gave Alma one final smile. He then left the room, leaving Alma frozen in that chair, before shutting the door.  
  
Once outside, Sheril locked the doors. He looked over at the two guards, and spoke calmly. “Make sure the prince stays in there until I return. He’s quite distressed from everything, and isn’t thinking all that clearly.”  
  
The guards looked at Sheril, but didn’t speak. Their eyes, which were oddly dead, only looked on, and their skin remained a strange ashen gray.  
  
With this response, Sheril said nothing further, and left.  
  


* * *

  
  
Another attack was fired, blasting full-force at a tumultuous level.  
  
Kanda clenched his teeth, as the attack caused him to skid back, heels digging into the soil of the cold, damp earth.  He had just tried to attack the damned thing, going for one of the limbs, but his attack had barely left a scratch – something that only further grated on Kanda’s nerves.    
  
It was a stronger akuma.  Not at all like the ones that the exorcists had encountered on their way to the castle – no, this one was at a higher level, and more evolved.  Looking back, Kanda realized that he had let his guard down too much; he had started to anticipate weaker akuma due to the pathetic strength the others harbored, and now he needed to snap back into full force.  
  
There was just no way in hell that Kanda was going to let this  _thing_  win.  
  
Before Kanda could ready another attack with Mugen, there was a flash of light, and the next attack of the akuma was blocked by Lau.  Because of the simian’s larger stature and size, he was able to pin the akuma’s limbs with both arms, momentarily pausing the akuma’s attacks.  
  
While Lau was distracting the akuma, Klaud turned.  She quickly looked back toward where the two finders and the two guards were.  “Go back toward the city’s entrance and block it – don’t let anyone leave!”  
  
Nodding, the guards and finders ran to do so.  
  
Once they were out of sight, Kanda turned toward Klaud.  “Someone else has to go back inside – Sheril’ll fucking do something!”  
  
Klaud’s eyes flashed in Kanda’s direction, with a look of alarm.  They burned, intense and frustrated, as she re-focused her attention on Lau Shimin, who was still blocking the akuma and trying to hold him off.  She noticed that the other exorcist, Marie, had also helped – locking the akuma down with what appeared to be threads as some strange, melodious vibration resonated from it.  
  
Tiedoll, who had been helping to block the akuma’s attacks before Kanda and Lau had intervened, glanced over toward Klaud.  “Kanda’s right – we sent in an exorcist of our own with Alma and Lavi, but for all we know something’s already gone wrong.”  
  
Klaud tensed, as her mind again flashed back to the fact that Alma had returned, and was in the castle somewhere.   Bookman was present, but Klaud wasn’t confident enough to trust that even Bookman could be entirely prepared for any scheming Sheril might have done – which only added to her inner fear that something likely _was_ going to go wrong.  However, Klaud hesitated – Tiedoll was the general from Arcaia, and technically viewed as a criminal.  And while Klaud wasn’t clear on who all of the exorcists were, it was likely enough that  _one_  of them was the supposed mad exorcist.  
  
It made Klaud nervous, and it caused her trust to falter.  She couldn’t trust these men – not completely.  
  
But, Klaud could feel time ticking away.  The seconds passing, fragile and fleeting – Klaud didn’t have time to falter in making a judgment, even if pressed for the best one.  But right now, all options seemed flawed, and Klaud had to decide.  
  
Sensing Klaud’s unease and resistance, Tiedoll spoke.  “Marie and I can hold off the akuma,” He reassured, voice firm and urgent.  “Kanda can help you.”  
  
Kanda looked over, caught off guard by the suggestion.    
  
Klaud turned toward Kanda, still wary.  There was a pensive look on her face, before she swiftly turned back to Tiedoll and nodded.  “Fine,” She said.  “The finders and guards will ensure no civilians come out here – we’ll try to send more backup.”  
  
Strangely enough, Tiedoll only smiled, eyes reassuring.  “Ah, that would be quite helpful – though Marie and I can take it from here.”  
  
Klaud nodded, then turned.  “Lau!” She called, before cracking the whip – which was loud, and thunderous in its crackling even against the dampened soil.  
  
The monkey screeched, before finally letting go of the akuma, retreating to where Klaud was.  By this point, Marie seemed to have constricted the creature enough though with his threads, preventing the akuma from moving right away as the sound of metal grinding filled the air.  
  
Once Lau pulled back, there was a slight, and the monkey shrank back down to its normal form – small and white, before it quickly jumped onto Klaud’s shoulder.  
  
Klaud turned to Kanda.  “Follow me,” She urged, before running toward the city’s entrance, and toward the castle.  
  
Kanda paused, and gave one final glance back.  He could see Tiedoll using his innocence, planning to attack as Marie held the akuma.  
  
Without waiting, Kanda then turned, and hurried to follow Klaud.  
  


* * *

  
  
Wrong.  Wrong.   _Wrong._  
  
Something was wrong – and it was beginning to eat at Lavi.  He and Daisya had only been separated from Alma not that long ago, with the guard giving reassurance that the prince would be safe and not have to speak with anyone that he didn’t want to.  Ideally, only Tricia, if available.  
  
The guard had reassured this, but Lavi didn’t know.  He didn’t know if he believed it.  But, Bookman would know – the old panda always knew what to do.    
  
“Um, you _do_ know where you’re going, right?” Daisya asked, as he looked over at Lavi.  The two of them were currently in one of the corridors, which were more residential as they were where the guest rooms typically were.  However, the halls were strangely quiet, and hardly any of the castle staff had been seen. In some ways, it was eerie, even to Lavi; the castle was usually a bit busier, but something was just…off.  
  
It was strange.  
  
Lavi turned, and looked back at Daisya.  “You really would doubt me?” He asked, before grinning back, despite the nervous twitch that pinched at his insides.  “I know this place like the back of my hand.”  
  
“Yeah?  So where’s the mysterious Bookman guy who will supposedly know what to do?”  
  
“Listen, the mysterious Bookman is has been staying in this corridor, and will hopefully save our asses-“  
  
“You two!” A voice shouted.  
  
Both Lavi and Daisya jumped a bit in surprise, as the loudness of the voice was startling abrupt.  When they looked, they could see two guards approaching them.  
  
Lavi quickly reacted, plastering an amiable look on his face as he smiled.  “Hey guys,” He greeted casually, as though the guards were long-time friends.  “Fancy seeing you here.”  
  
The guards didn’t return the amiability, as their expressions remained stern and unwavering.  “What are you doing here?” One of the guards asked – a middle aged man, with hair that was already beginning to gray and a tightly clipped beard.  
  
Daisya and Lavi exchanged glances, with Daisya’s in particular conveying a questioning look.  
  
Quickly, Lavi tried to regain control of the situation.  “Come on, you guys know me!  Lavi Bookman?  Bookman’s apprentice?” He asked, not sure what was going on.  Lavi understood that the castle had tightened its security – it was even to be expected.  But, now things were beginning to seem a bit ridiculous.  Lavi had only been gone a few days, and surely the guards couldn’t have truly viewed him as some  _threat_ , could they?  
  
Daisya inched a hair closer to Lavi, and whispered over to the Bookman.  “Um, this looks like it could be a problem…”  
  
“Yeah, no kidding,” Lavi whispered back, as before once more looking back at the two guards, whose expressions were still skeptical and untrusting.  
  
As the other guard looked as though he were about to speak – and say something unpleasant given the harsh, almost annoyed look in his eyes – another voice spoke. It was from behind the guards, and just out of Lavi’s sight, but he recognized the voice all the same.  
  
“Step aside.”  
  
The two guards turned. When they did, Lavi’s thoughts were only confirmed, as he saw the wrinkled, stoic face with dark circles and a semi-frown that he had come to know so well.  
  
Bookman looked at the guards, his dark eyes meeting theirs with a piercing precision. When he noticed the guards’ wariness, Bookman spoke. “It’s just my idiot apprentice – he’s too useless to be a threat.”  
  
The clipped response was direct, and apparently held just enough merit that the guards were able to back down. A bit hesitantly, they nodded, before the guards continued on their way. They chanced one last glance toward Lavi and Daisya, but otherwise said nothing before heading elsewhere.  
  
As soon as the guards were gone, Lavi scoffed. ” _Useless_? My worth is priceless!”  
  
Bookman huffed under his breath. “You might as well be useless – where have you been?”  
  
“Frolicking in the woods doing what you told me to,” Lavi answered with languid ease. “Being productive. Finding answers. Totally _non-useless_ things.”  
  
Bookman raised an eyebrow, and his attention shifted to Daisya – who he had yet to acknowledge in all of the conversation.  “Really?” Bookman questioned, words directed at Lavi despite his focus being on Daisya.  
  
Daisya smiled cheekily.  “Nice to meet you too.”  
  
“May want to be nice, Gramps – this is one of the guys who Alma was hiding out with,” Lavi spoke.  
  
Bookman’s eyes flashed over to Lavi.  “The prince was found?”  
  
“Yeah.  He was escorted to his chambers, and I told him not to allow the guards to bring him to anyone other than Queen Tricia –  _OW_!” Lavi yelped, as a pencil thwacked him over the head.  
  
“Why didn’t you say that  _sooner_?” Bookman hissed.  
  
“You didn’t give me a chance!”  
  
“Those idiot guards won’t listen,” Bookman swiftly pointed out.  “Sheril has them too tightly wrapped around his fingers.  When did you last leave Alma?”  
  
Daisya answered.  “Just a few minutes ago – the guards were being kind of stiff asses about letting us into the wing they took him…”  
  
Annoyance appeared in Bookman’s eyes.  “All these pretenses of security…” He muttered, more so to himself than anyone else.   
  
Lavi looked at Bookman, a frown etching into his features.  “What’s happened since I’ve left?”  
  
Bookman shook his head, and didn’t give a direct response to Lavi’s inquiry.  “Enough has happened – we need to ensure no one like Sheril has gone to see Alma yet though.  Queen Tricia hasn’t been faring well, and Sheril has been able to make any commands in her place.”  
  
A slight look of alarm appeared on both Daisya and Lavi’s expressions, as they exchanged glances – both thinking back to what the guard who had taken Alma earlier said, and how it had been ordered that Alma was to be taken to a more isolated area if found.  
  
“Shit, this Sheril guy is good…” Daisya mumbled.  
  
“Damn,” Lavi cursed.  “We have to go back!”  
  
No one was in objection to this, and the trio moved quickly, with time ticking away tauntingly and uncertainty lingering the air.  
  
In their haste, none of them cause sight of the dark eyes peering at them from around the corner.  Somewhat hidden back, and away, the petite, doll-like girl watched.  She leaned against the corner, inky eyes flashing to a hot and scalding gold, and her gaze burned in its intensity.  
  
Road smiled, teeth pearly white and almost sharp in their appearance.    
  


* * *

  
  
The seconds passed quickly, like sand falling through one’s fingertips.  Kanda could feel them slipping away, fast – too fast.    
  
They weren’t moving slowly though.  Klaud was fast, moving with purpose and urgency – something that in a way, Kanda was grateful for.  He didn’t have the patience for any delays.   Not with so much hanging on the line.  
  
Alma.    
  
Kanda could already feel himself tensing as he thought about the prince, and tried to focus on where he and Klaud were going.  They had rushed through the town, though Kanda hardly paid much attention to anything, instead focusing on keeping up with Klaud.  Everything – the buildings, homes, even the few people that were out – seemed to all blur together like insignificant details not worth remembering.  
  
However, Klaud soon stopped.  There was no warning given of any kind, but she ceased running, just before the two of them could reach the castle gates – which were only a short distance away.  
  
Kanda scowled, as he stopped as well.  “Why did you stop?” Kanda questioned, tone impatient and aggravated.  “We need to keep going!”  
  
Klaud turned, a thin frown on her lips.  “We have to be careful with you going inside – security’s tighter than normal,” She warned.  
  
A scoff escaped Kanda.  As if he hadn’t realized this – the guards and castle security were bound to pose some kind of hassle.  
  
Klaud’s frown deepened as she took in Kanda’s wordless response, noting how standoffish his mannerisms were.  “Be wary of how you come across – the guards won’t have patience to deal with any reckless behavior.”  
  
Kanda swiftly looked at Klaud, and glared.  He bit his tongue though, only because a small, rational part of his brain knew that she was right – he _did_ need to be careful.  The situation was too messy, and too delicate.  It was too easy to blunder.  
  
“Fine,” Kanda forced out, words low and contained.  There was a slight strain, but it was held back like a fire repressed by glass.  
  
Klaud watched for a moment longer, and nodded.  “This way then,” She said, before adding coolly.  “And don’t say  _anything_.”  
  
Kanda fought the urge to roll his eyes, and did as the general instructed.  They continued on, approaching the gates where several guards were.  The guards immediately recognized Klaud, and at first said nothing – but their attention soon landed on Kanda.  
  
Before the guards could say anything, Klaud spoke.  “He’s with me,” She said, cutting the guards off before they had a chance to voice their concern.     
  
One of the guards shifted, and spoke quickly.  “General, the prince returned-“ He started to say.  
  
“I know,” Klaud spoke.  “Where is he?”  
  
“He was escorted by one of our men inside.  The Bookman’s apprentice and another man was with him.”  
  
_‘Daisya,’_  Kanda realized, as he silently wondered what was going on inside.  Shit, he hoped that nothing had happened…  
  
Klaud nodded, then spoke. “I need you to send several finders with talismans and guards to the north city limits – there’s been an akuma attack. The entrance is being blocked off by a few, and the akuma is maintained – but we need backup,” She explained.   
  
Alarm filled the guards eyes, and they nodded. “Yes, general. Should we expect you to return?”  
  
Klaud paused, then nodded. “I will as soon as I can – two accommodators are currently assisting. Before I can return I have to notify the queen of what’s happened.”  
  
Another nod from the guards. “We’ll see it’s taken care of,” One of them spoke.  
  
The guards rushed to get help after that, doing as Klaud had instructed. There were still a few guards remaining to keep watch, but while their eyes were wary and uncertain, they did not hinder Klaud when she continued, with Kanda following her closely.  
  
Kanda released a breath that he hadn’t known that he was holding. He hadn’t realized how on edge he had been around the guards until he and Klaud were leaving, though the tension remained in his muscles as his mind swirled with thoughts of everything else. Tiedoll and Marie. The akuma. The guards. Alma.  
  
So many thoughts. So many anxieties.  
  
The two of them made it into the castle with no further issues, though when they went inside it was oddly quiet. Kanda could feel his tension increase; it had been two years since he had been in any castle of any kind. Unpleasantly, his mind recalled the architecture of Arcaia’s castle – which, although different that the one in Engelus, was still similar enough that it sent a merciless shudder throughout Kanda’s body, sickening him to the core and making him uneasy.  
  
Keeping up with Klaud’s brisk pace, Kanda re-focused his attention, looking over at the general. His eyes happened to land on the little white monkey, before Kanda spoke. “Where are we going now?” He asked, voice low as he glanced around their surroundings warily.  
  
Klaud kept her focus ahead, eyes alert. When she answered, her voice was also low, as though to keep from anyone else hearing despite the halls being strangely quiet. “The guards probably took Alma somewhere they thought to be safe – probably his room. We’ll look in that wing first,” She said. “If I can, I’m going to see if I can try to speak with Queen Tricia. I haven’t been able to because of Sheril’s influence the past few days, but given the circumstances I should be able to.”  
  
Kanda’s expression remained wary, and on edge. Although Klaud spoke with confidence, her words held no guarantee.  
  
Kanda needed more than a guarantee. Far more.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of movement could be seen. Quickly, Kanda turned, ceasing to walk briefly as he focused on the area. It was just near where the hall divided into a second one, though Kanda couldn’t see anything then.  
  
Klaud looked, frowning when she saw Kanda had stopped. “What is it?”  
  
Kanda stared a moment longer. Whatever had moved had been quick – a flash of a shadow, and hard to decipher. It had been small, whatever it was, and almost seemed as though it could have been the size of a little animal.   Almost like a cat.  
  
“I thought I saw something…” Kanda murmured, still looking on.   
  
Klaud paused, and her eyes moved in the direction that Kanda was gazing in. When she saw nothing, the general spoke. “Let’s keep going,” She spoke softly.  
  
Kanda gave one final look, but obliged.   He needed to keep his guard up, but he couldn’t afford to be wasting time getting turned around over shadows and tricks of light. That was what it could have been – just a shadow, and nothing more.  
  
Kanda hoped that was all it was.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Sleep. They had told her to sleep.  
  
That’s what the physician always said: to sleep, to rest…it was the same words that always filled Tricia’s ears, and the words that she knew she was likely to hear whenever the physician did arrive.  
  
Truthfully, Tricia hoped that this time she might hear otherwise. She hoped that maybe the physician would have something different to tell her, because she was tired. Literally and figuratively, she was tired. She was tired of hearing the same words spoken, and she was tired of feeling weak and worn. At this point, Tricia had started to question whether or not something else may have been wrong with her – a fearful notion, but a realistic one all the same. Her body felt frail, and her eyes never wanted to stay open for too long; her eyes were weary, and her muscles weak. She had no fever, and was always cold.  
  
But, it was stress and exhaustion. That’s what she was told.  
  
Tricia sat up. She had been in bed rest, and it was actually frustrating. A small, tiny part of herself – the one that still carried a spark of life, burning like a meek flame amongst winter – knew she needed to get better, and that she needed to do something. Within the past few weeks, there had been something unsettled brewing within Tricia, and something that made her more and more anxious, with an urgent, nervous energy that flittered about.  
  
Move. Move – Tricia needed to _move_. Her body felt heavy, and her limbs hard to control, almost as though something had sewn through her, and threaded her body down with weights –   
  
The door opened, and Tricia looked over. The bedroom was dimly lit, with only a sliver of gray peeping in through the partially drawn curtains. In the doorway, she could see it was only her husband entering.  
  
Sheril looked over, and frowned in mild concern when he saw Tricia was sitting upright. “Tricia,” Sheril admonished, with a gentle voice. “You should be resting. The physician will be here soon.”  
  
Tricia looked at Sheril, and an apologetic look appeared in her pale eyes. “I can’t sleep,” She spoke, words quiet. “I should be doing more…”  
  
Sheril shook his head, as he walked over to where Tricia was. He sat down on the bed beside her, and took her hand – which was so fragile in his own. “You can only do so much. It’s better to preserve your energy where you can,” Sheril advised.   
  
Eyes inquisitive, worry flickered across Tricia’s expression. “How are things?” She asked, before a slightly more frantic edge trickled into her words. “Has anything happened? Has anyone found Alma?”  
  
Sheril didn’t respond immediately, and a pitying look appeared in his eyes. Despite the implication that had been conveyed regarding Suman “likely” having killed Alma, Tricia still seemed to maintain a hope that her son would be found – an element of denial, really. One that was pitiful.  
  
Sheril answered, words smooth and with ease. “No progress has been made, I’m afraid,” He said. “But if anything arises, I shall let you know.”  
  
Tricia’s expression cracked upon hearing this, as pained disappointment filled her eyes.  
  
There was a knock at the door, causing both Tricia and Sheril’s attention to shift. Sheril glanced back at Tricia, and spoke calmly. “Continue to rest – I’ll see who it is.”  
  
Sheril stood, and walked over to the door after that. His expression was neutral as he answered, and a mask devoid of any real emotion, save for some mild annoyance at best.   
  
When he opened the door, Sheril saw it was Lulu Bell – in human form, and in a maid’s attire.  
  
Sheril stepped out, and shut the door behind him. When he knew that no one was listening, he spoke quietly. “What is it?” Sheril asked, as he eyed Lulu Bell.   She didn’t usually take a human form if unnecessary, as she preferred a more feline body.   It made Sheril wonder if something had happened.  
  
There was a pause, and Lulu Bell’s dark eyes met Sheril’s. “We have a bit of a problem,” She answered, voice cool. “The general came back, and Yuu Kanda is with her. It also seems the Bookman’s apprentice has returned as well.”  
  
Surprise flickered in Sheril’s eyes, which then darkened with irritation. “I see…”  
  
“We’re losing control of the situation. Road is keeping an eye on the Bookmen, but she or someone will need to intervene. They’re looking for the prince.”  
  
“Of course they are,” Sheril spoke, as his tone became colored with disgust and annoyance. “Damned exorcists, always getting in the way…”  
  
Lulu Bell’s eyes moved to the door to Tricia’s room. “Does she suspect anything?”  
  
“No,” Sheril answered shortly. “No, she never has. She’s too delirious with wear.”  
  
Gaze shifting, Lulu Bell made eye contact with Sheril. “Should I take care of her?”  
  
Sheril shook his head. “No…no, leave her be. The threads I’ve woven into her have drained enough of her energy that she won’t be an issue,” He explained coolly. Then, with a narrowed gaze he looked at Lulu Bell coldly. “We’ll do what we have to in order to make sure the others won’t be a problem. At this rate, any…accidents can be used to our advantage.”  
  
Lulu Bell nodded, before once more looking at Tricia’s door. “Should I keep an eye on her?”  
  
Sheril thought, then nodded. “Yes. Make sure no one else comes to find her. I don’t care what you do with them. But leave Tricia be.”  
  
A small, tiny smile tugged and Lulu Bell’s lips. “Very well.”  
  
Sheril said nothing more, and left the corridor after that.  
  


* * *

  
Daisya had stopped running. He wasn’t sure why at first – but there, grazing the back of his neck, was the unsettling sense of something _watching_. It was such a small, subtle feeling, but not so subtle that Daisya couldn’t miss it.  
  
As Daisya had stopped, so did Bookman and Lavi. Lavi’s face twisted into confusion, as he looked back at Daisya. “What’d you stop for? We gotta hurry!”  
  
Daisya looked around, then back at Lavi and Bookman. “Um, do you feel like we’re being watched?”  
  
“In this place?” Lavi asked. “Always.”  
  
Bookman’s eyes flashed between them. “Both of you quit blabbering, and _move_ -“  
  
There was an explosion, sudden and abrupt. It cut off Bookman, as he ducked, dodging the impact.  
  
Lavi and Daisya did the same, skidding out of the impact’s line of destruction. There was dust and smoke clouding the air, and they coughed, before they looked to see the source of the attack: an akuma. Another one.  
  
“Shit, they’re _inside_ the castle now?! _How_!?” Lavi exclaimed.  
  
“Less talking, more fighting!” Daisya shouted, before activating his innocence, and throwing the first attack at the akuma.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The sound of something explosive reached Klaud’s ears, and her head turned in alarm.   
  
Kanda, who had also heard it, looked over toward the source of the noise. “What the hell was that?”  
  
Klaud’s brow creased, and on her shoulder, Lau Shimin chattered anxiously. She couldn’t say for certain what the noise was – especially with it coming from some part of the castle. But, as she tried to focus on where the noise had come from exactly, she realized with an icy dread that it sounded close to the wing where the royal chambers were.  
  
“Hurry,” Klaud urged, before she and Kanda started to rush toward where the noise was.  
  
Kanda’s jaw tightened, as his heart started to race. There was something so off and wrong about the castle – they had hardly seen that many servants, and the guards seemed off and sporadic. It was just _weird,_ and something about it reminded Kanda far too much of Arcaia, and the way things had been there.   
  
Gritting his teeth, Kanda thought of Alma. If he could just find out where Alma _was_ …  
  
Another explosion, this time followed by shouts and a few screams. Kanda and Klaud quickened their speed.  
  
“Akuma! There’s an akuma in the castle!”  
  
Several castle servants could be seen running down the hall, all in a panic. As a few of them passed, Klaud caught one – a young woman who looked as though she were seconds from falling into a frenzied state. “What happened?” Klaud asked, words hurried.  
  
The castle servant blinked, and looked as though she was struggling to compose herself. “There…there was an akuma – it’s toward the north wing of the castle, but the two Bookmen are there-“ She tried to answer, before cutting off as she took a shallow, panicked breath.  
  
Klaud nodded. “Get anyone else you can, and evacuate the building,” Klaud ordered.  
  
The castle servant nodded quickly, before bolting away, while Klaud and Kanda ran in the other direction.  
  
A shout could be heard not far off, and Kanda recognized the voice. _‘Daisya!’_  
  
A third explosion reached their ears – this one closer. Finally, Kanda could see the cause ahead.  
  
Not one, but two akuma – neither weak, and looking as though they were possible second level akuma as well. They were both strange in their appearances, with one looking very doll-like with joint-like limbs and a mannequin-esque face. The second was more bulbous, with a limbless body that was covered in spikes and an ugly, misshapen head.  
  
Fending them off was currently Daisya, Lavi, and Bookman.  
  
Klaud pulled out her whip, swiftly cracking it as she activated her innocence. Lau Shimin jumped off her shoulder, screeching as his form shifted into the more monstrous, larger simian form he took when activated. Without waiting for a specified command, the simian charged forward, attacking the more bulbous akuma.  
  
Daisya turned, spotting Kanda immediately.   He had just taken hold of his anti-akuma weapon, Charity Bell, as he briefly addressed the other exorcist. “Where’s Tiedoll and Marie?”  
  
“Outside,” Kanda answered, as he activated Mugen. “There was another akuma out there.”  
  
“Someone needs to check the rest of the castle!” Klaud shouted, as he tried to keep her focus on Lau while also addressing the others. “There are still innocent people here, and they’ll be at risk if there are more akuma around.”  
  
Bookman nodded. “Agreed,” He said, before turning to Lavi. “Lavi – you should go. You already know the layout.”  
  
Lavi paused. He had activated his hammer, which was enlarged to a size slightly bigger than his own body. He then nodded. “Sure thing – I’ll scope out the area, and round up anyone I can find,” He said. “Don’t die before I come back or anything!”  
  
Bookman scoffed, as Lavi ran off. “Mouthy brat,” He muttered, before returning to fight to the doll-like akuma.  
  
Kanda turned his attention back to Daisya. “What happened to Alma?” He asked, before Daisya could get distracted with fighting.  
  
“One of the guards took him to his room? We were trying to back there before these things – f _uck_!” Daisya cursed, as he dodged an attack from one of the akuma, who had just thrown Lau Shimin back.   
  
Kanda clenched his jaw, as he tried to focus. Akuma. He needed to focus on the akuma – but despite this attempt, Kanda could only think of Alma, and wonder where he was, and if he was even _safe_.  
  
Abruptly, Kanda recalled the past few days, and what had happened. The image of Alma when he had nearly died flashed through Kanda’s mind.  
  
Gripping the hilt of his sword, Kanda turned to look over at Klaud. “Which way are the royal chambers from here!?”  
  
Klaud’s eyes met Kanda’s, and there was a sudden understanding in her gaze. She nodded her head toward where one of the halls broke off into another one. “They’re that way!”  
  
Kanda nodded, and glanced toward Bookman and Daisya. As he saw they were doing well to hold the akuma off, he swiftly ran toward the direction Klaud had pointed him in.  
  
Kanda didn’t know how far he had run, or how far he was going – but soon, the sound of the chaotic battle faded behind him, as he ran down the corridors. There were a few turns, with each leading Kanda farther and farther down a path. Tensely, he kept looking – looking for any signs of guards, of life, anything…  
  
_‘Damn it, Alma, where the fuck are you?’_ Kanda thought, as he looked on. There were a few doors, but none of them that he had passed look as though they were for bedrooms, and Kanda was beginning to grow frustrated. How would he know which room Alma was in?  
  
“Alma!” Kanda finally started to call, hoping that if anything, the prince may hear him.   
  
There was no answer, though, and Kanda’s voice was only met with silence.  
  
_‘Keep going,’_ A voice seemed to urge him. _‘Keep going!’_  
  
Determination burning, Kanda started to move -   
  
And stopped.  
  
Everything stopped. Kanda’s breath. His legs. His muscles were tight with tension, but that the only thing that he even seemed to be capable of feeling – his attention was too planted elsewhere, and too preoccupied. It was too preoccupied with the individual standing before him.  
  
Sheril. Sheril was standing there, gaze hard as he looked at Kanda, locking the exorcist’s gaze like some cruel, unyielding spell.  
  
Silence fell between them.  
  
“I’m honestly surprised you’d show your face here,” Sheril spoke, after a moment of tense quiet had passed. His tone was calm, but somewhat annoyed. “Given what happened in Arcaia…”  
  
Kanda clasped at Mugen, and he held the hilt of the sword so tightly that his knuckles were colored white. His fist trembled, the veins and tendons on his wrist protruding.  
  
“Where’s Alma?” Kanda asked, voice low.  
  
Sheril raised an eyebrow, as intrigue appeared in his eyes. “I don’t see how that would be of much concern to you. If I recall, you never cared for royals much.”  
  
Kanda’s teeth clenched together, and he glared. “Where _is he?_ ” Kanda hissed, as his patience was quickly deteriorating.  
  
Sheril’s eyes narrowed, before he scoffed snidely. “Nowhere you’ll be going,” He spoke, before looking back at Kanda, eyes dark. “Though I can’t just let you walk out of here now either…”  
  
Kanda didn’t wait to speak – he acted. Raising Mugen, he lunged forward, attempting to attack Sheril. Sheril quickly jumped back though, avoiding the impact of the blade.  
  
Eyes flashing, Sheril glared darkly at Kanda. Then, he smiled. “Attacking a noble? Always the treacherous one, aren’t you?”  
  
“Shut up!” Kanda shouted, before he attempted to attack again. This time, Kanda tried a different attack, and slashed his sword in a horizontal line. As he did this, several, ghostly-like insect creatures were released, which charged for Sheril.  
  
Sheril moved again, this time moving his hand as though he were throwing something. Several, thin treads could be seen, and they cut through each of the insects with ease.  
  
This caused Kanda to pause, as alarm filled his eyes. _‘The hell!?’_  
  
Kanda didn’t have much time to think, because Sheril moved to attack again. Dodging, Kanda continued to hold Mugen as his eyes landed on Sheril’s hand – the one that seemed to be his dominant one, as well as the one controlling whatever it was that Sheril was using to attack.  
  
In a split-second decision, Kanda charged forward, just barely managing to get close enough so he could swing Mugen at Sheril’s hand.  
  
Realizing what Kanda was doing, Sheril pulled back. However, he wasn’t quite quick enough, and he hissed, cursing as he gripped his hand. “Damn you!” He snarled, as he continued to hold where Kanda had hit.  
  
Kanda was about to attack again, but paused. There was a spark of something dark, like some kind of energy current from where Kanda had hit Sheril’s hand. Then, when Kanda focused his attention, he could see dark, umber-colored skin from where he had cut. _‘What…?’_  
  
Sheril’s eyes moved up to meet Kanda’s, and flashed, shifting from onyx to molten gold. “I think I’ll just deal with you right now,” Sheril hissed, voice seething.  
  
Then, Sheril attacked again.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_‘Come on,’_ Alma thought, as he tried once more to move. _‘Come on…!’_  
  
It was no use, though. No matter what Alma did, he couldn’t move. He was trapped by some invisible force, and still confined to that chair, as though something were tying him down and preventing him from moving.  
  
But, Alma couldn’t just stay. He had to get free. Everything was going wrong, and he had to _do something._  
  
_‘Damn it, if I could just get loose-‘_ Alma thought, as he tried desperately to move himself once more.  
  
Then, when Alma expected resistance, he nearly toppled forward. Eyes widening, Alma caught himself as he gripped the arms of the chairs.   
  
He blinked, confused. But, Alma looked around, and then with some hesitancy moved his arms.  
  
He was able to do so.  
  
Relief flooding Alma, he stood. He had no idea what had changed, or why he was suddenly able to move in that instant, but Alma wasn’t about to wait around to get trapped again. Quickly, Alma ran to the door, and made a move to open it – but, it was locked, and wouldn’t budge.   
  
“Hello!?” Alma called, recalling there had at least been two guards posted outside his door. He banged on them, face twisted into a frustrated scowl as he tried shouting again. “Let me out! I have to get out of here!”  
  
There was no response though, and the door remained locked.  
  
Huffing, Alma then took a step back. Looking at the doorknob where the lock would be connected to, he activated his innocence. Holding the bow, Alma pulled the string back, and somewhat recklessly shot at the lock.   
  
There was the sound of a _crackle_ , as the energized arrow hit into the desired spot. As the arrow dematerialized, Alma turned the knob, and was finally able to yank the door open.  
  
When Alma went outside, he saw that no one was around – not even the two guards who had been posted outside his room.  
  
Alma frowned. _‘Weird…’_ He thought, as he glanced down both directions of the hall. It was so quiet…  
  
No. No, it wasn’t – not really. Alma had almost missed it, but it was there: the sound of someone faintly shouting, and of something clanging together. A fight.  
  
Alarm and worry filled Alma, and he quickly ran in the direction of the noise.  
  


* * *

  
  
_Clash._  
  
Kanda kept going – he couldn’t stop, and he couldn’t afford to. He had seen too much, and experienced too much - especially at the hands of Sheril.  
  
Teeth gnashing together, Kanda lunged, skin hot as he tried to keep up with Sheril. The noble was moving at an alarmingly fast speed, and as Kanda attempted to match Sheril’s pace, he found himself tiring. It was unnatural the way Sheril moved; his body was quick and fluid in its motions, and with a flick of his wrist, Sheril could release threads that sparked with dark matter. It was freakish, and reminded Kanda of a twisted version of Marie’s innocence – though this sort of attack was far darker, and more manipulative.  
  
Dark. Manipulative. _Threatening_. Kanda had always known there was something off with Sheril, but he had never expected _this_. He had never expected such a horrid darkness, and something that was so revoltingly _inhuman_.  
  
Another attack was made by Sheril, and Kanda’s right arm was cut by one of the threads. He flinched, as he felt the hot sting and warmth of the wound beginning to bleed, and his muscles felt weak.  
  
Sheril noticed. “Getting tired, are we? You exorcists always like to take on more than you can handle,” He taunted, before dodging another attack.  
  
“Fuck you!” Kanda snarled, as he tried a different attack: this time, one that released a spark of energy onto its target in an almost floral-like pattern.   
  
Sheril glared, as the attack hit him. He was able to stand his ground, but the impact was there, doing a moderate amount of damage and hindering him briefly. But, as soon as the attack was over, he forced himself into recovery, and threw another attack at Kanda.  
  
Kanda tried to move, but his motions were too delayed; the attack hit him on the side of his torso as a result, and his body buckled, as Kanda lost his footing and fell.  
  
_‘Damn it,’_ Kanda cursed, as he tried to force himself to stand. However, he had grown weak, overexerting himself and pushing his limits. His body was lacking strength, and he just couldn’t keep _up_ with Sheril.  
  
Seeing that Kanda had collapsed, Sheril walked over, a smirk on his face.   He looked down at Kanda, and his eyes were brimming with icy triumph. “I was going to just finish you off, but maybe I should leave you. I wonder what the council would think if they learned the mad exorcist came and caused all this trouble…”  
  
“You lying _bastard_ ,” Kanda spat, seething despite not being able to hardly move.  
  
Sheril looked as though he were about to speak, but there was a sudden whizzing sound, and some pierced Sheril’s shoulder: an arrow, slightly glowing and formed from energy.  
  
Sheril shouted, hissing in pain before he turned, eyes venomous as his attention landed on the attacker.  
  
Alma was there, having just come upon the fight. He had his innocence activated, bow held and the string pulled back as he prepared to fire another attack. His eyes, which were normally so warm and bright now blazed with a fierce anger as he met Sheril’s gaze directly.  
  
“Get away from him,” Alma ordered, voice firm.  
  
Sheril looked at Alma, as an aggravated look flared in his eyes. “You really are _such_ a nuisance,” Sheril muttered, before taking his hand and moving his fingers, which twitched about as sparks of dark energy danced from them.  
  
Alma moved, jumping out of the way just as Sheril made an attempt to attack. In a speedy motion, Alma then fired another shot, aiming for Sheril’s leg. He missed by a hair though, as Sheril dodged.  
  
By this point, Kanda had forced himself up. He had to use every ounce of strength he had to use every ounce of energy he had left, but he was barely able to manage, trying to steady himself as he took Mugen.  
  
Dodge. Aim. _Dodge_. Alma tried to shoot, pulling back the string of his bow so that when it show three arrows were released instead of one. This worked in Alma’s favor, as Sheril could only evade so many arrows. One grazed his side, and the other, the cheek of his face – and as the arrow head cut into the skin, a tear of dark gray flesh could be seen.  
  
Momentarily, Alma was stunned, as he recalled a similar effect happening when Kanda attacked the doppelganger back in the woods.   
  
The delay was a weak point though, and Sheril took advantage of the moment. Releasing several threads, he managed to lock onto Alma’s limbs, before throwing the prince back against the wall, pinning him. Once Alma was trapped, Sheril then walked over to where Alma was.  
  
Their eyes locked, and Sheril stared into Alma’s defiant gaze, his own irises burning in a molten shade. The cut on his cheek sparked, where the pale flesh had started to crack apart.   
  
Alma’s heart was hammering in his chest. He was trapped, and he couldn’t move. And Sheril was there, staring into his own eyes like a nightmarish fiend, with inhumanly gold eyes and crackling skin.  
  
Not human. Whatever Sheril was, he _was not human_.  
  
Alma wanted to be brave, and to be strong. He wanted to, but he was afraid. In that moment, he was afraid of what Sheril would do to him.  
  
He was afraid, but he needed to know.  
  
“What…are you…?” Alma asked, voice barely audible.  
  
Seeing the small glimmer of fear, Sheril smiled. He leaned in, so that his lips were close to Alma’s ear.   
  
Alma listened to the response, which was whispered like a serpent’s hiss. A name. A thing he did not understand, yet something that send a chill down his spine.  
  
Amongst the silence, there was the sound of a blade piercing flesh.  
  
Something flickered in Sheril’s eyes – surprise, at first, then something more. Something that Alma didn’t understand. But the darkness continued to spread along Sheril’s face, as he looked at Alma, and smiled. “We’ll see each other again soon.”  
  
Alma stared, as shock over took him. Behind Sheril was Kanda, who had pierced the noble through the back of his chest with Mugen.  
  
Sheril didn’t move though. He didn’t move, and he hardly even flinched. And his smile remained.  
  
Then, as though he were some kind of apparition, Sheril faded. Slowly, like a mist, he faded into nothing.  
  
Kanda stumbled, falling forward once Mugen was no longer piercing anything. Alma moved, and swiftly caught Kanda, breaking the exorcist’s fall. “Yuu!” Alma exclaimed, concern in his voice. He knelt down with Kanda, still supporting him, and could feel something warm and sticky on Kanda’s side. When Alma looked, he could see that Kanda was bleeding.  
  
Eyes alarmed, Alma spoke. “Yuu, you’re hurt-“  
  
Kanda grimaced. “I’ll live,” He spoke, despite the pain being evident on his face. He then looked around. “Where the hell did that bastard go?”  
  
Alma paused, and glanced around the area as well. When he did, he saw that only he and Kanda were left in the corridor, and that Sheril was nowhere to be seen.  
  
An uneasy look appeared in Alma’s eyes. “I…don’t know…” Alma answered, voice quiet.  
  
Alma didn’t know. He didn’t know where Sheril was.  
  
All he knew, was that Sheril was gone.  
  


* * *

  
  
_Kick. Kick. Kick._  
  
Road leaned back against the doorframe, as she delicately kicked at the ground. Each time, the click of her kitten heel made a light _tap_ , gently echoing against the pristine floor of smooth stone and marble, dark gray and swirled with inky shades.  
  
_Kick._  
  
She felt several things. Irritation, and anger, mostly – Road never liked to have her fun interrupted. Especially when exorcists were involved. She never liked to have her playtime brought to a halt, and she especially didn’t like it when people hurt her family.  
  
_Kick._  
  
Road turned her head, and looked off to the side. She had been in the doorway leading to a bedroom. The room was so dark, that it could have been mistaken for nighttime, with the curtains blacking out any light that might have otherwise spilt from the widows. Road could see just fine though; her vision had adjusted, and her golden eyes rested on the bed in the room. And the occupant lying in it.  
  
Sheril was there, looking as though he were asleep. His face looked as though it were cracked stone, and his skin, rather than its usual pale color, was a strange, dark ash color – like umber with an ashen hue.   
  
Eyes lingering on Sheril, Road stared. Her mouth twitched into a small frown.  
  
Someone walked up from behind where Road was in the doorway, and leaned against the opposite frame. Road didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Tyki,” She greeted.  
  
Tyki eyed Road, then his gaze flickered over to Sheril. “He’ll wake up soon. You know that innocence can do a nasty little spell on us if it hits the wrong spot.”  
  
Road scoffed. “We should have just killed them all when we had the chance. If Sheril hadn’t had gotten hurt, I’m sure I would have convinced him. I don’t even know why he had Lulu Bell keep that sorry excuse for a queen alive.”  
  
Tyki’s eyes glinted in amusement. “It was under Lord Millennium’s orders. We’re supposed to be wary of how we go about these things,” He responded. A thoughtful look appeared in Tyki’s eyes, as he then added, “Though you all did do quite a number at the end…I’ll have my hands full having to speak for Arcaia when the council comes knocking.”  
  
At this, Road smiled. “Sorry,” She apologized, though her tone was teasing. “I’m sure you’ll have fun though. You always liked challenges.”  
  
Running a hand through his hair, Tyki shrugged. “Sometimes,” He said. His gaze then moved over to Sheril, and Tyki continued. “Tell my brother to take it easy when he wakes up. You and him will both want to be a little quite for the time being – at least until I get things under control.”  
  
Road pouted.   
  
“Lord Millennium _promised_ to make it up to you.”  
  
Road’s eyes lit up. “Oh? He better. I don’t want to get bored being stuck here again.”  
  
Tyki chuckled. “Such a troublemaker,” He commented, words laced with affection. “You’ll get a chance to finish your game with those exorcists. It just may take a while.”  
  
A small smile tugged at Road’s lips. “If I have to. You’ll just have to keep me entertained as well.”  
  
“I can do that,” Tyki said. “I better get back to Lord Millennium. He’ll want to school me on what to say exactly to the…council.”  
  
“You sound thrilled.”  
  
Tyki grinned. “Absolutely not,” He said, before leaving. “Behave though.”  
  
Road beamed. “Don’t I always?”  
  
Tyki only laughed quietly, and walked off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I //hated// this chapter. I seriously cannot stand writing action for the love of anything, and this was like re-living the clusterfuck fight in Lotus in the Snow all over again (like, I thought THAT was the bane of my existence and had swore never to write something like that again - but no, no, HERE I AM AGAIN. SUFFERING). Honestly, part of the reason I went ahead and updated this so quickly was because I wanted it off my plate and out of my head for good. >.<
> 
> There was just...no easy way to tackle this. There really wasn’t, and I do want to apologize, because I know it’s messy as hell. There are a lot of characters being handled here, and a lot of scene jumps. But believe me when I say this was the bare minimum I could get away with without it feeling like I was skimping out on things (I mean, I bought in all these characters, and couldn’t just...ditch them, you know? XD).
> 
> If anything! Hopefully it was at least somewhat fast-paced and engaging. Toward the end it got a little better, if only because there was finally that face-off between Sheril, Kanda, and Alma - though, people might be concerned that Sheril is technically still alive and elsewhere (I know quite a few people...mmmm, were calling for his head on a spike XD BUT HEY. KANDA GOT HIM. KANDA GOT ‘EM GOOOOD). 
> 
> There are still some lose ends to be tied up, which should hopefully carry through in the next chapter, and then the final one/epilogue (TWO CHAPTERS LEFT, GUYS). So, I’m hoping it’s at least satisfying in that sense. ;3
> 
> My goal is to have those two chapters up before the month is over, which is looking like it’ll happen! Thank you all for the support as always, and I hope you enjoyed this most recent update! (Despite it being a clusterfuck XD)


	28. Gift of Grace

The akuma had not lasted. It had been strong, and it had put up a fight – one that was terribly challenging, even for Tiedoll and Marie. Tiedoll hadn’t been certain at one point if he and Marie would have been enough for this particular akuma; its actions were savage, and its force unrelenting.  
  
But, the akuma had started to weaken. And then, it crumbled.  
  
Tiedoll and Marie didn’t know why. They had attacked the creature countless times, and several finders and guards had eventually come as Klaud had promised with talismans to help prevent the akuma from entering into civilian territory. However, this was a defensive measure, as helpful as it was, and should not have contributed to the akuma’s demise.  
  
Tiedoll and Marie simply didn’t know. They didn’t know why the akuma had suddenly died.  
  
As the akuma crumbled to ashes, Marie frowned, angling his face toward Tiedoll. “Is it…gone?”  
  
Tiedoll was also frowning, eyes pensive as he watched the creature disintegrate. “It seems so…” He spoke. Tiedoll then turned his head, and looked back toward some of the finders and guards. “You’ll want to keep this area closed off for a while – these toxins will need to clear.”  
  
The finders nodded, and one of the guards stepped forward, looking between Tiedoll and Marie with a more serious expression. “If you will, I’ll need you two to come with us.”  
  
Neither Tiedoll nor Marie said anything at first, both immediately wary. However, they also understood that given the turn of events they couldn’t exactly ignore the request – especially when Kanda and Daisya were now inside the castle walls. They could never turn their backs on one of their own.  
  
Finally, Tiedoll nodded. “Very well.”  
  
The guard motioned for Tiedoll and Marie to follow him, and both exorcists did so, with the remains of the akuma lingering behind them.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Can you move okay?” Alma asked softly. He was still kneeling beside Kanda in the corridor, eyes laced with worry as he took note of Kanda’s wounds. There was a nasty slice on Kanda’s arm, but it was hard to tell how bad it was considering the soiled shirt sleeve partly covering it – and the same went for whatever damage had been done to the side of Kanda’s torso.  
  
Kanda’s body remained tense, and his expression was a bit strained – a clear indicator that he was in pain, despite what he next vocalized. “Yeah, I just need a minute…” Kanda grumbled, sounding more annoyed than anything else.   
  
Alma’s brow creased a bit, as the concern remained. But, he didn’t want to push Kanda just yet, and instead glanced around the corridor. It was quiet, and there wasn’t anyone else around; it made Alma both relieved, and a little nervous. He still didn’t understand what had happened to Sheril, or what Sheril even _was._ And Alma didn’t want to just wait around in that corridor in case anything else happened.  
  
Turning back to Kanda, Alma spoke. “I can help you up,” He offered.  
  
Kanda shook his head. “I’m fine,” He spoke, as he tried to get up. He cringed though, as a scalding pain seared throughout the side of his body. Kanda’s knees buckled back down, and he remained on the ground.   
  
Kanda exhaled heavily, as he tried to steady himself.  
  
This only caused Alma’s worry to increase, and he took Kanda’s shoulders as he helped to steady the other exorcist. Alma frowned. “You’re _not_ fine – here,” Alma said, before helping Kanda up, taking Kanda’s good arm and bringing it around his own shoulder so Kanda could better support his weight. “Just hang onto me? There’s an infirmary, and you can get treated there.”  
  
Kanda scoffed. “I don’t have a disease. It’s just a cut,” He pointed out. Despite saying this, Kanda didn’t fight Alma’s attempt to help support him.  
  
“ _Two_ cuts, and both need to get looked at,” Alma emphasized, not wanting Kanda to put this off. Even if Kanda was willing to brush off the wounds, Alma wasn’t. He didn’t want anything to happen to Kanda.  
  
At this, Kanda averted his gaze. He huffed under his breath. “You worry so damn much about everything…” He mumbled.  
  
Alma’s face heated, and he looked forward as they started moving. “I just don’t want it to get infected or anything…” He admitted, words coming about somewhat softly. Was he worrying too much? Alma hadn’t thought so, but…  
  
Kanda seemed to notice the way Alma had somewhat pulled back, and his dark blue eyes moved over to the prince. There was a pinch of guilt somewhere inside, when he realized Alma was only worried because he cared.   
  
Kanda looked off to the side. “Yeah, I know…”  
  
There was a small pause, then Kanda spoke as they continued along. His eyes were wary. “Keep your guard up…there were akuma in the castle,” Kanda said, before adding, “Klaud was holding them off with Daisya and those Bookmen…”  
  
Turning to look at Kanda, a fearful look of alarm appeared in Alma’s eyes. “Akuma are here!? How? They shouldn’t have made it beyond the seals!”  
  
“Tch. Yeah, well they did…Tiedoll and Marie got stuck dealing outside the city limits too…”  
  
Alma quieted at this, as they continued moving.   
  
Akuma. Akuma had gotten inside the castle. Inside the kingdom. But _how_?  
  
As these questions brimmed within Alma, there was the sound of voices up ahead.   Looking up, Alma could see as they rounded the corner into a more open area that several people were present, and a few guards had shown up. The area was a mess, with damage having been done to the floor and the walls. Debris and ashes littered the corridor intersection.   The guards looked as though they were trying to get things in order, but Alma’s attention quickly landed on a familiar face.  
  
“Klaud!” Alma exclaimed, when he spotted the general.  
  
Klaud had been speaking with one of the guards, but turned as soon as she heard the prince’s voice. Lau Shimin chattered, once more a small white monkey perched on Klaud’s shoulder, and his tail swished in an excitable fashion.  
  
As soon as Klaud’s attention landed on Alma, a look of shock cracked the general’s composed expression. Swiftly excusing herself from the conversation she had been having, she ran over to where Alma was with Kanda.   
  
“Alma!” Klaud spoke, words far more hurried than a pace she would have normally spoken in. “Alma, thank god –“   
  
Lau continued to chatter, jumping up and down as he recognized Alma.  
  
A warm fondness filled Alma’s heart as he saw the little monkey, but Alma couldn’t quite allow himself to relax just yet. Glancing over at Kanda, Alma returned his attention to Klaud. “Klaud – Yuu got hurt, and –“  
  
“Alma, I said it’s _fine_ ,” Kanda tried to say, before grimacing a bit, as a fresh wave of pain seared into his side.  
  
Klaud looked at Kanda, then back to Alma. “We’ll get him taken to the infirmary,” She said. “The other exorcist was taken there as well to be checked out.”  
  
“You mean Daisya?” Kanda asked.  
  
Klaud nodded, then motioned for one of the guards to come over. When the guard came, Klaud nodded her head toward Kanda. “This one needs to be taken to the infirmary as well – see that he’s taken care of immediately.”  
  
The guard nodded, then took Kanda’s other arm, so he would be able to support the injured exorcist rather than Alma. Kanda’s face twisted in annoyance, as he didn’t appear too thrilled by this. He even looked as though he were about to argue, but the pain otherwise prevented him from doing so.  
  
A look of worry flashed across Alma’s features. “Wait, I want to go with him-” Alma said, as he tried to leave to the infirmary with Kanda.   
  
Klaud stopped Alma. “We’ll make sure he’s helped, Alma,” Klaud reassured, as the guard took Kanda to the infirmary. Her eyes then became more serious, as she spoke. “We need to discuss what’s happened. Suman-“  
  
“Suman didn’t do anything!” Alma rushed out, already knowing what Klaud was going to say. “Lavi told me he was being blamed for my disappearance, but he didn’t hurt me – _Sheril_ tried to make him kill me!”  
  
The way in which Alma’s words tumbled forward was fast, and Klaud seemed a bit caught off guard. However, she registered the words quickly enough, and her expression was severe. “We have to find out where Sheril is,” Klaud spoke, voice tense. “When he learns you’re here…”  
  
Hearing this, Alma stiffened a little, and he remembered what had just happened only moments before. Alma swallowed, not sure how even to say what it was he needed to. “Klaud…” Alma started, tone a bit wary. “Klaud, Sheril…he’s not here.”  
  
Confusion colored Klaud’s eyes, as she frowned. “What do you mean?”  
  
The serious edge to Klaud’s words caused Alma to pause. He glanced around. The few guards in the area seemed to be pre-occupied with trying to get things in order, making sure the area was safe enough for the castle staff to return to, but Alma didn’t want to risk going into detail where just anyone could hear.  
  
Alma turned back to face Klaud. “It’s…complicated,” Alma began to say, struggling to process the events still. “I just…Klaud, I need to speak to my mother – where is she? Is she alright?”  
  
As Alma asked this, the worry began to trickle out even more. His mother. He needed to see his mother. He needed her to know that he was _alive_.  
  
Klaud didn’t answer immediately, but her gaze softened. “She’s been really ill, Alma. Worse than normal,” Klaud answered, tone more gentle. “We’ll have the physician look at her before you just go in…I don’t think we should risk shocking her.”  
  
Throat drying, Alma didn’t say anything. He hadn’t realized how dire his mother’s health had become, and the fact that it had worsened to such an extent made him sick to his stomach.  
  
Carefully, Klaud placed a hand on Alma’s shoulder. “We’ll get things situated, Alma,” She spoke, as she once more tried to reassure the prince.   Then, in an even softer tone, she added, “It’s good to have you back.”  
  
To this, Alma was able to manage a small smile. “Thanks.”  
  


* * *

  
  
At some point, Tricia had blacked out.  
  
She wasn’t sure what had happened, or when. What Tricia last remembered was that Sheril had come into the room to check on her, and to tell her that the physician would be coming soon. A completely ordinary conversation, and one that transpired often; but, Tricia also recalled Sheril having to go to the door because someone was knocking.  
  
Then…what happened after? That was when Tricia had seemed to have lost consciousness, and where her memory drew a blank.  
  
It was odd. It would not have been the first time that Tricia had unexpectedly fainted, given her health, but something about this instance seemed _different_. Tricia couldn’t exactly explain it, and she wasn’t sure if she were perhaps imagining things. But, in some peculiar sense, Tricia recalled feeling something akin to needles digging into her body, as though she were being threaded with some invisible force.  
  
Tricia wanted to shake her head. Such a thing surely had to have been imagined.   
  
Tricia had been abruptly woken though – a nervous rap at the door before several attendants came in followed by a few guards, all frantic and quick to escort Tricia elsewhere. Tricia didn’t know why at first. Nothing alarming had happened that she had been aware of – but the actions of the guards and attendants indicated otherwise.  
  
“Did something happen?” Tricia asked one of the guards, as she was ushered into a different area of the castle.  
  
The guard looked back, even as they continued. “There were akuma in the castle,” He answered. “They’ve been taken care of, but we’re doing a thorough inspection of the area of make sure there are no remaining threats.”  
  
Hearing this, the queen became alarmed. “What?” She asked, as shock began to overtake her – almost to the point of being dizzying.  
  
One of the attendants steadied Tricia. “Please be careful, your majesty,” The attendant spoke, a woman who was middle-aged and with dark auburn hair.  
  
Tricia nodded, as she allowed the attendant to assist her. “Do you know where Sheril is?”  
  
The attendant paused, then shook her head. “No, I’m afraid no one has seen Lord Sheril – but everything has been so chaotic, and a few people were evacuated.”  
  
Another nod, though Tricia’s throat felt dry. She had lost Victor, and Alma. And she didn’t know if she could handle losing any more people.  
  
Inside, Tricia could feel her heart begin to twist, insides knotting.  
  
“The physician is here – he’ll need to look at you to make sure you’re alright,” The attendant said, as Tricia was led into a separate room – one of the nicer, spare bedrooms used for guests when staying. The attendants quickly situated Tricia, where she sat on one of the sofas. A few had tried to encourage her to actually lie down, but Tricia refused, not wanting to lie down anymore; she felt far too restless.  
  
Only two attendants remained, while some guards were posted outside. The physician came not long after. He was thorough as he inspected the queen, doing his best to make sure nothing severe was amiss. A small man with snowy-white hair that was terribly thin, the physician wore glasses that he constantly had to readjust. His movements were quick and precise, but soon he finished the routine check-in. As he did this, there was a curious look in his eyes.  
  
“It’s the strangest thing,” The physician said, as he met Tricia’s gaze. “You actually seem to be doing far better than you have in weeks.”  
  
It was surprising news, but welcome all the same. Tricia couldn’t say she was able to enjoy the information as thoroughly though, giving the unease and anxiety spinning in the back of her mind. She couldn’t stop herself from worrying about the rest of the castle occupants, and what had even allowed for such a security breach to take place.  
  
The physician finished up, before there was a knock at the door. As the man left, he murmured something to the one attendant. The same attendant saw the physician out, while also being able to see who it was who had knocked at the door.  
  
The attendant briefly shut the door, and walked over to where the queen was still seated. As the attendant met Tricia’s gaze, there was a slightly wary look in the attendant’s eyes. “General Klaud Nine is outside – she wanted to speak with you,” The attendant said, her voice holding the slightest tremor – almost as though she had been caught off guard, or shocked by something.  
  
Tricia looked, a bit perplexed. She wasn’t so oblivious that she missed the peculiar edge to the attendant’s tone, but Tricia nodded, somewhat uneasily. “Please let her come in,” Tricia said. Given how chaotic things had been, she knew that she had not really been able to speak to Klaud; things had been tense, and Sheril had ended up taking on most of the face-to-face interactions.   
  
It was something that Tricia had mixed feelings about: she was grateful, but also disliked how inactive she had been.  
  
The attendant nodded, before returning to the door to open it. Klaud came in after, for the most part composed.   As usual, Lau Shimin was with her, quiet as he moved about the general’s shoulder.  
  
Tricia’s eyes looked up, swiftly meeting Klaud’s. “Klaud, what happened?” Tricia asked. Although her volume was maintained, there was urgency to her words.  
  
Klaud hesitated, and looked toward the two attendants. She returned her attention to Tricia. “If you’d allow, I really would prefer to speak to you in private.”  
  
This caused Tricia to pause, as an uneasy sensation brewed within her. However, she nodded in agreement, before motioning for the two attendants to leave.  
  
Once the attendants had left, Tricia turned to Klaud, standing. “Klaud,” Tricia spoke. “Klaud, were there really akuma inside the castle? How?”  
  
Klaud briskly walked over to Tricia, as she steadied the queen. “Please, don’t excite yourself,” Klaud asked, voice becoming gentle, as she guided Tricia so that the queen was sitting again. Klaud sat beside her.  
  
Tricia tried to remain calm. She tried, but was wavering. “Klaud, what _happened_?”  
  
Klaud didn’t answer right away, then took a breath. “We’re still not sure, but…” She began to say, before trailing off, as she thought of the best way to say what needed to be expressed next. However, as Tricia looked at Klaud, the general realized the best method would be to just get it out.  
  
“Tricia…Alma is alive. He returned to the castle,” Klaud finally spoke, words soft.  
  
In that moment, everything stopped for Tricia.  
  
Alma. Her son. Her son who had been _missing_ – who had been missing, and possibly dead. Suddenly, all of Tricia’s thoughts seemed to draw to a complete halt, as she struggled to process that her child was back. That her child had come _home._  
  
And Tricia needed to see. She needed to know.  
  
“Where is he?” Tricia asked, the words rushing out like a tumble of water.  
  
Klaud looked a bit concerned, clearly worried that the queen would overexcite herself again. “I brought him with me – he’s outside, but we wanted to make sure you were well enough to speak to him-“  
  
Tricia wasn’t listening at this point. Before Klaud could stop her, the queen stood, and hurried past the general despite Klaud calling after her. Despite the fact that she shouldn’t have been running, and shouldn’t have been pushing her body.  
  
Tricia didn’t care. She only needed to know. She needed to _see._  
  
In a quick motion, Tricia opened the door that led out into the corridor. As expected, there were the two guards posted outside, plus a third gurard who had not initially been there.  
  
Beside the third guard, was Alma.  
  
He looked just as Tricia remembered him, and yet there was something slightly different. He wasn’t dressed as normal, wearing a wrinkled peasant shirt that looked a little too loose, and his hair bring even more disheveled than normal. There were a few scuffs visible on his skin, though Tricia was fearful to think of where they were from, and just as before, the innocence remained on his left arm, somewhat visible and in the form of a bracer.  
  
But then, Alma turned, and his bright blue eyes met Tricia’s.  
  
Tricia stared, for a second frozen as she struggled to take in the reality that Alma was there. That Alma was standing _right there._ Alive.   
  
Eyes burning, Tricia stared. All she could do was stare. “Alma…?”  
  
Alma, who had also been a bit stunned, seemed to be at a loss for words himself, as he struggled to formulate even a sentence. Blinking, Alma’s eyes hazed, as he tried to speak. “Mom-“  
  
Alma didn’t even get a chance to say anything more, because the next thing he knew, Tricia had run over to him, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Alma was caught off guard, not having anticipated the action – and was even more taken aback when he could hear his mother break, as a sob escaped her.  
  
“Mom,” Alma tried to say, as his own voice threatened to crack, with a flood of emotion suddenly threatening to break through. “Mom, I’m really sorry-“  
  
Tricia shook her head, still crying as she continued to hold Alma tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” She spoke, words broken with fresh tears. “I missed you so much...”  
  
There was a raw and earnest way in which Tricia spoke, and it caused Alma’s voice to hitch. He suddenly felt choked up, and before he knew it his own eyes were hot and blurring, as several tears began to spill down his cheeks.  
  
As the tears flowed, Alma hugged his mother back. “I missed you too…” Alma barely managed, words choked through his tears.  
  
Tricia didn’t let go, and only continued to cry.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
After things had settled, Tricia and Alma went into the room. It had taken a few minutes for them to calm down, with both being rather emotional with having just been reunited. But, the release of emotions seemed have done some good; Alma especially felt a bit better, and more at ease with now having seen his mother. He really hadn’t been certain what to expect, and from what he had heard, Alma had feared that Tricia might have been worse off health-wise than what she now seemed.  
  
But, Tricia seemed fine. Emotionally-spent, and tired, but fine.  
  
Klaud was there, having not left even after Alma and Tricia were reunited. She remained in the room – something that Alma was actually a bit grateful for, as his heart still thumped somewhat nervously in his chest.   Despite the heartfelt reunion, he knew he would still have much to explain.  
  
Trica walked back over to the sofa to sit down, and Alma sat next to her. Klaud had changed her position so that she was in the chair across from them, with Lau hanging off the top of the chair’s back, swinging up so he could sit on it right behind Klaud.  
  
No one else was in the room, and it was just the three of them.  
  
With them all being closed off from any guards or attendants, Tricia turned to look at Alma. Her eyes, which were still somewhat glassy, were now inquiring, and also concerned.   
  
“Alma,” Tricia asked, “Alma what happened? Suman…”   
  
The queen trailed off, and Alma’s breath hitched a bit in his throat. In his peripheral vision, he could also see Klaud looking at him.   
  
Despite the intimacy of it only being the three of them, Alma felt nervous, and had to push himself to speak. “Suman didn’t do anything wrong. He…he never actually hurt me, and…”  
  
Words drifting, Alma took another breath. This was it. He was going to have to say what had happened. He was going to have to be the one to do it, and there was no telling how his mother would react to the news. “Suman…he took me into the woods that day, but only because he was instructed to,” Alma finally admitted. “Sheril…he made Suman do it.”  
  
As Alma spoke these words, a look of bewilderment broke across Tricia’s features. She stared, almost looking as though she thought she might have heard incorrectly. “What?” Tricia asked, question soft.   
  
Although asked gently, there was something in Tricia’s voice – something that Alma couldn’t put a name to, but an element that made his heart twist all the same.     
  
Klaud noticed this, and spoke. “Should I leave?” She asked, wanting to be sensitive to whether or not the discussion required her presence, and whether it would be better for her to leave Alma and Tricia alone.  
  
“It’s fine,” Alma said, voice a bit hurried. Even if the conversation didn’t entirely require Klaud’s presence, he wanted the general there.  
  
Neither Tricia nor Klaud said anymore at that point, and their attention remained on Alma, as both waited for the prince to speak.  
  
A moment. A long, strained moment passed.  
  
And Alma did his best to explain. He did his best to explain everything.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Kanda hadn’t been thrilled about being taken to the infirmary. He hadn’t been thrilled about some guard taking him, and he hadn’t been thrilled about being separated from Alma.  
  
And he certainly hadn’t been thrilled about being poked and prodded in the most _violent_ way imaginable.  
  
The head nurse pressed down onto Kanda’s arm, placing a cover firmly over the cut that had been freshly cleaned and sterilized to the point where it felt as though Kanda’s skin was on fire. The exorcist grimaced, teeth gritting as he remained tense and uneasy. He hated being touched, and he hated it even more given how painful the “treatment” was.  
  
“Do you _have_ to do that?” Kanda seethed, words low and aggravated.  
  
The head nurse, Mathilde, stepped back. Her face was pinched into a scowl as she placed her hands on her hips. “You need to stop complaining. Those wounds will get infected if not properly cared for,” She clipped.  
  
Kanda sneered, and looked away. “It’s not _fucking_ necessary – _ow_!“  
  
Mathilde ignored Kanda, as she had promptly taken his arm to very _firmly_ bandage it. “Stop whining like a child – it’ll heal just fine so long as you don’t do anything reckless.”  
  
Jaw clenched, Kanda bit back another string of curse words.   
  
“Give it up, Kanda. She won’t let you go until she mummifies you with those bandages,” Daisya mumbled, clearly in his own state of defeat. While he had not been bandaged like Kanda had, he had evidently been given a _thorough_ inspection by the head nurse, with a few cuts and scrapes slathered with ointment, though nothing that required any heavy coverings. He was currently on the bed next to Kanda’s lying on his back, and looked somewhat exhausted.  
  
Kanda huffed. He tried to bite his tongue as the head nurse finished – something that was gratingly difficult to do, but possible only because Kanda didn’t trust the head nurse not to take out any aggression on his wounds.   
  
Fortunately, Mathilde finished up. She glanced between Daisya and Kanda, and spoke. “Now both of you just stay put. Don’t even _think_ of leaving those beds.”  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Daisya said, the sarcasm seeping into his words.  
  
Mathilde only scowled, then walked off, going to check on some of the other people in the infirmary. A few guards had been injured in the chaos earlier, but luckily none of the other castle servants had been brought in, indicating any physical injuries were on a smaller scale.  
  
Once left alone, Daisya turned to look at Kanda. “Those _are_ some ugly cuts you got,” Daisya noted. “What happened?”  
  
Kanda didn’t answer right away, nor did he meet Daisya’s gaze. There was a slight scowl on his face, as he reflected on fight from earlier.  
  
_Sheril. Sheril holding Alma against the wall. Kanda moving to_ stab _Sheril._  
  
The memory flashed through Kanda’s mind unpleasantly, as his stomach knotted. He knew that it was necessary what he had done – there had been no getting around it, unless Kanda had actually been willing to let Sheril _kill_ Alma.  
  
Except…the situation now looked bad. It looked like a mess. And Kanda didn’t think it was possible to get out of this one – not when word got out that he had attacked a noble, human or not.  
  
Kanda had attacked. Not a double. _Kanda_.  
  
_‘Damn it…’_ Kanda thought, as a sense of dread filled him.   
  
Daisya’s brow creased when he saw that Kanda wasn’t answering. Then, Daisya tried another question.  
  
“Where’s Alma?”  
  
The inquiry caused Kanda to stiffen even more, as he continued to avoid eye contact. Alma. Alma had gotten held back while Kanda was taken to the infirmary…and then what? Kanda didn’t know. Kanda didn’t know what had happened to Alma, and if he had just remained with Klaud, or if he had ended up being able to speak to his mother.  
  
Kanda didn’t know. And now that the situation was sinking in, Kanda wasn’t sure if he would even be able to see Alma again.  
  
“I don’t know…” Kanda finally answered, words a murmur. “He was with that Klaud person the last I saw, so I guess with her…”  
  
Daisya nodded, then laid his head back on the thin pillow. His focus moved to the ceiling. “Wonder what’s going to happen now…everything kind of went to shit…”  
  
“Tch,” Kanda muttered, though he wasn’t able to actually disagree.  Everything  _had_  gone to shit.  
  
“’Eyyy, there you guys are!”  
  
The voice rang through the air, familiar and clear.  Kanda immediately felt a twinge of annoyance; he knew that voice, and when he looked up, he could see it was Lavi, who had come into the infirmary and was walking over toward where Daisya and Kanda were.  
  
Inwardly, Kanda groaned.  He didn’t want to deal with the damned Bookman right now.  Now when his wounds were stinging beneath tight bandages and he was confined to a bed.  
  
Daisya didn’t harbor the same reservation as Kanda though, and greeted Lavi with a grin.  “Hey, you come to get the five star treatment?  It’s like boot camp for patients with how they treat you.”  
  
Lavi laughed – a dry and nervous sound.  “Um, yeah, no, I’m avoiding that,” He said before glancing around to see just where the head nurse was – though she was thankfully distracted a way’s down, currently putting some poor guard through a level of agony that Lavi didn’t want any details on.  
  
Kanda sneered quietly.  “Yeah?  You look pretty beat up…” He grumbled, noticing Lavi had a few small scuffs.  The redhead looked as though he were attempting to conceal this though, as if in hopes the head nurse wouldn’t notice.  
  
“Shhhh,” Lavi hushed, not wanting the head nurse to get wind of any “injuries” Lavi might have sustained.  He then changed the topic.  “You guys got your first set of visitors though.”  
  
Daisya looked a bit surprised, and sat up.  Kanda tried to as well, but because of his wounds and bandages, there was a sharp sting of pain that caused him to fall back down.  He bit back a grimace.  
  
But, the “visitors” Lavi had mentioned seemed to come into the infirmary at that moment.  Tiedoll and Marie, both seemingly okay, walked in.  Tiedoll glanced around, then his gaze immediately landed on where Kanda and Daisya were.    
  
A worried look appeared in the former general’s eyes, and he and Marie rushed over to where Kanda and Daisya were.  “Are you two alright?” Tiedoll asked, concern clear.  
  
“Never been better,” Daisya answered with a lop-sided smile.  Kanda, however, just glared over at the next bed over – which was currently unoccupied.  
  
“How bad are your wounds?”  Marie asked.  
  
“Tch.  They’re fine…” Kanda mumbled, still rather frustrated over his current situation.     
  
Daisya snorted, but didn’t say anything more.  
  
At this point, a somewhat uneasy pause fell – awkward, and slightly strained.  Marie was the one to speak first though, as he addressed what the others were inevitably thinking about as well.  “This situation…we can’t exactly walk out of here now.”  
  
The air became tense, and Kanda fought the urge to look at the others.  His expression was dark, as he reflected on this.  Right now, he and Daisya were being treated alright.  Tiedoll and Marie were being treated alright.  But, that was because no one knew – no one knew they were the former Arcaian unit, and no one knew they were wanted for treachery.  
  
So, what would happen when people _did_ find out?  
  
Tiedoll’s face became solemn, and he exhaled.  “No…we can’t…” He said, before turning to Lavi.  “Lavi, who all knows the details of the situation?”  
  
Lavi thought.  “Me, Bookman, and Alma…but hell.  To be honest, I can’t say what’s going to happen now,” He said, before his one good eye flickered across everyone.  “I wouldn’t try to sneak out just yet though.  It’ll only look worse…”  
  
Kanda’s head whipped toward Lavi, and despite the way his body screamed in protest, he forced himself to sit up – or at least, as far as his body would allow.  Kanda had to try to prop himself up on his elbows, and that took a lot.  “What, so just fucking  _wait_?”  
  
Lavi frowned, shrugging. “Unless you have a better plan.”  
  
Tiedoll looked over at Kanda.  “Kanda, nothing has happened yet.   We…don’t know what Alma has said, or if he’s even spoken with Queen Tricia.”  
  
Daisya scrunched up his face a bit as he scowled.  “You think that’d really do anything…?”  
  
“We can’t be sure, but for now all we can do is try to wait,” Marie spoke evenly.  “It won’t do any good to try to leave with those injuries you have either…”  
  
Kanda bit back a growl of annoyance.  Once again, he was the dead weight.  Once again, _his_ situation was causing a problem.  
  
It was not long Tiedoll and Marie remained in the infirmary.  Only minutes later, a few guards came in to seek them out – and to indicate that the exorcists were being required to stay put for the time being.  The exchange had occurred where Kanda could hear everything, and as it took place, he grew nauseous.  
  
The guards were telling them they had to stay.  They didn’t give a reason, but apparently orders had been made.  
  
Before leaving, Tiedoll turned to Kanda.  “It’ll be fine, Kanda.  Don’t worry,” He reassured, though there was unease that seemed to flicker within Tiedoll’s eyes, and Kanda knew that the man was just as on edge.  
  
Kanda said nothing, and Tiedoll and Marie were escorted elsewhere – likely to some temporary rooms, where they would be placed until…  
  
God…until _what_?  
  
Daisya was quiet after, as was Lavi who had remained.  Once Tiedoll and Marie were gone, Lavi looked back at the two remaining exorcists.  “I’ll see what Bookman knows,” He said.  
  
Daisya nodded.  “Yeah, let us know if you find out anything…”  
  
Lavi nodded, and left as well, quick to leave before Mathilde could catch him.    
  
With only Daisya left nearby, Kanda remained quiet.  He really had no desire to speak, and rested his head back on the pillow, as he tried to quell the growing distress that he was beginning to feel.  There was no more certainty and no more knowing – there was no way to expect anything, and no way to feel secure.  
  
Tiedoll.  Marie.  Daisya.  Kanda didn’t know what would happen to them now.  He didn’t know what would happen to himself.  He didn’t even know what had happened to Alma.  
  
Alma.  
  
Pathetically, Kanda remained wordless.  He remained wordless and wondered if he’d ever get to see Alma again.  
  


* * *

  
  
They were kept overnight in the infirmary.    
  
Kanda hated it.  He and Daisya hadn’t been able to leave, with both being stuck in the infirmary overnight.  They weren’t allowed to leave, and while no guards were inside the infirmary, Kanda had caught sight of a few lingering near the door that led out when a few of the nurses were coming and going.  It made his insides twist in nervousness; why did guards need to be posted outside?  
  
Daisya seemed on edge as well, though he didn’t outright admitted it.  But, Kanda noticed; he noticed by the way Daisya nervously kept tapping his foot against the mattress, and the way the other exorcist kept shifting his position.  Even when they both should have been sleeping, the two of them were restless – hardly relaxing, and constantly tossing.  
  
It didn’t help that they had heard _nothing_ either.  It was frustrating; Tiedoll and Marie never returned, nor did Lavi or Bookman.  And Alma – what about Alma?  No one had said anything, although Kanda had heard some of the nurses excitedly whispering and gossiping over the prince’s return.  If anything, Kanda supposed that was good – at least Alma’s presence was known, which would act as some security at best.  
  
Still.   This didn’t account for what would happen to Kanda and the others, and the more time passed, the more worried Kanda became.  He had stabbed Sheril.  He had attacked a noble.   Even if Sheril had plotted to kill Alma…how was Kanda supposed to defend himself?  
  
A mess.  It was another mess, and Kanda didn’t have the slightest idea as to how to clean it up.  
  
Kanda exhaled.  It was still night – or maybe early morning.  He wasn’t sure what time exactly, but the infirmary was dark, and he could hear Daisya snoring on the next bed over.  Quietly, Kanda wondered if Alma were asleep – probably in his room, and hopefully safe from everything.  
  
_‘Alma…’_  Kanda thought, as a pang of yearning pierced him.  More than anything, he wished he could see Alma.  That he could see Alma one last time, if any.  
  
The rest of the night was fitful, and Kanda never really fell back asleep.  His body was stiff, and his mind was far too active.   Time was dragging slowly, and in many ways was torturous.  
  
Kanda just wanted it to be over with.  
  
But when the next day came, Kanda received no answers.  The head nurse came to check on him and Daisya in the morning, but other than that she had nothing more to tell them.  All she did was inspect them to see how they were faring, and reiterate that they were to stay put until further notice.  
  
Then, the guards came.  
  
It was only a few of them; they came when it was close to noon, entering into the infirmary without any warning or announcement.  Kanda had noticed them right away, and his insides coiled up tightly when he saw that they were approaching where he and Daisya were.  
  
Daisya looked uneasy, but remained unusually quiet.  Kanda said nothing as well.  
  
As the guards approached, one of them spoke.  “We need you two to come with us.”   
  
Mathilde, who had been just a few beds down, quickly intervened. “What do they need to be moved for? At least this one should remain a bit longer,” She said, nodding toward Kanda.  
  
In any other case, Kanda would have rolled his eyes – but now, he was too tense, and uneasily watching the guards.  
  
The guard responded. “I’m sorry – this is comes from the queen. The exorcists need to come with us.”  
  
Hearing this, the head nurse was unable to argue, and for the first time since meeting the woman, Kanda was regretful of that fact.  
  
There was no delay following the command, and Daisya and Kanda both got up. Kanda winced a little, with his body being far sorer than anticipated, but he just tried to ignore it. At this point, all he could do was follow the guards with Daisya, and hope for the best. Not that Kanda knew what _that_ would be.  
  
They walked on, leaving the infirmary and down the hall. As the guards led the two exorcists, Daisya leaned over to Kanda and whispered. “Um…so the queen being Alma’s mom. Did he like…ever talk about her? Because it’d be nice to have a warning of what to expect.”  
  
Kanda exhaled. “No,” He mumbled, not sure what to expect either. “So just keep your mouth shut.”  
  
Silence fell after that, with only the sounds of their steps echoing against the smooth floor. Kanda tried to focus on that sound: something simple, and mediocre. Inconsequential.   
  
A distraction. He needed some sort of distraction.  
  
The walk continued, and the seconds dragged by. What was it Kanda and Daisya were being summoned for? What about Tiedoll and Marie? An unpleasant, icy wave of trepidation began to overtake Kanda; if he didn’t gain some sort of answer soon, he truly felt that he might lose his mind right then and there.  
  
A few more minutes passed, and the guards eventually brought the two exorcists to an area outside several large doors that were closed – possible ones that led to a hall, or large room of sorts. The guards didn’t go inside though, and instead waited.  
  
Daisya shifted his weight anxiously, and chanced a glance toward Kanda. Kanda noticed, but remained quiet.  
  
A few more moments passed – long, and incredibly drawn out. Kanda actually almost broke, nearly asking the guards just _what_ it was that they were being brought in for. But, just as Kanda was about to do so, he could heard several more footsteps, and his attention was derailed.   
  
When Kanda looked, he could see a few more guards escorting Tiedoll and Marie over. Neither Tiedoll and Marie were speaking, but there was a tense energy around them as well – one that only added to Kanda’s growing agitation.  
  
Once brought over, the guards exchanged glances. Then, one opened the doors and stepped in, leaving the four exorcists outside with the remaining guards.  
  
Quickly, Kanda looked over toward Tiedoll. “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked, keeping his voice low.  
  
“No,” Tiedoll spoke back, volume also minimal. “They gave Marie and I rooms for the night, but no one has told us anything.”  
  
Kanda’s frown deepened. So, Tiedoll and Marie knew nothing either – did that mean that they hadn’t heard anything about Alma…?  
  
Seeing the distress in Kanda’s eyes, Tiedoll spoke quietly, almost as though he had read the exorcist’s mind. “I heard Alma is getting situated. Some of the castle staff were speaking about it last night,” Tiedoll commented. “I imagine he’s at the very least safe now.”  
  
Kanda’s eyes became alert as he heard this, then he looked away. It was one thing to _hear_ about Alma, but….not seeing him still left a sinking, hollow feeling inside Kanda’s chest. One that was unpleasant and hard to ignore.  
  
It was maddening.  
  
The door opened, and the guard who had gone in earlier came back out. He motioned for the exorcists to follow him. Warily, the group did so, as each exorcist seemed to hold their breath.  
  
Beyond the doors, was a large room – a hall, and one that looked as though it were designed for larger and more significant meetings. The ceiling was high, rib-vaulted, and the area was spacious with rich, mahogany-colored walls. It was a truly beautiful room, and a long table was placed horizontally at end of the room where several people were seated. Off to the side, Bookman and Lavi could be seen – no doubt taking record of whatever event was transpiring.  
  
Already, Kanda was having flashbacks to the day he was sentenced in Arcaia.  
  
It was a struggle to look forward. Kanda instinctively had the urge to avoid eye contact, but forced himself to refrain from this action. He looked ahead, immediately spying who could have only been Queen Tricia. He had never seen her before, but she was seated in the center, with light blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She looked tired, and as though she had hardly rested in days, but there was a slight spark of alertness in her eyes: an indicator of a spirit that had not been entirely broken, but one that had clearly been through toil.  
  
Then, Kanda’s attention moved to the others seated. Advisors, probably-  
  
Kanda froze.  
  
Alma. Alma was there.  
  
Kanda had no idea how he hadn’t noticed immediately – probably because he had been far too wrapped up in his own anxiety, and too resistant to allowing his eyes to wander. But, Alma _was_ there.   
  
Staring, Kanda felt himself unable to look away. Alma just _looked_ different. He was no longer in the shabby peasant shirt Kanda had last seen him in, now dressed in attire far more suitable for a royal. It was nothing overly fancy, but still formal enough finery that Alma’s status as the prince stood out; Kanda actually struggled for a moment not too look away, and found it difficult to believe that _this_ was the same Alma he had come to know. But, Alma’s gaze shifted at that moment, and his eyes moved to meet Kanda’s.  
  
Kanda’s breath caught, as he was faced with those painfully familiar blue eyes.  
  
A look of concern flashed across Alma’s face – no doubt as he took in Kanda’s appearance, which was hardly presentable. Between the grime and bandages, Kanda probably looked a horrible as one could look. _Especially_ in the face of royalty.  
  
Alma shifted in his seat, and for a moment it looked like he was going to get up. However, Tricia seemed to notice and reached over, placing a hand on Alma’s shoulder as though to keep him in place. She said something indistinguishable, and Alma only nodded his head quietly.  
  
Kanda felt his mouth shift into a frown. The atmosphere was tense, and he didn’t know what was going on – but the whole situation was making him a nervous wreck, and the emphasized distance between him and Alma only seemed to worsen the effects.  
  
There were a few whispers among some of the advisors, who were on either sides of Alma and Tricia. The independent, smaller conversations continued for a moment, while Kanda and the others remained quiet, waiting for whatever this was to be done with.  
  
“Maybe we should make a break for it…” Daisya murmured, keeping his voice low. It was difficult to tell if he were serious or not.  
  
“Don’t do anything reckless,” Marie advised, also keeping his volume to a minimum.  
  
The room quieted, signifying that whatever this meeting was, was about to start. The advisor to Tricia’s left spoke, addressing the whole room in a clear, direct voice. “This meeting is now back in session, following our earlier discussion regarding the attacks that took place yesterday,” He stated, indicating that the meeting the exorcists had been brought into was an ongoing on. The advisor then turned his attention to the exorcists. “Please have the exorcists involved state their names, and unit affiliations.”  
  
Everyone tensed, and the exorcists exchanged wary glances. No one spoke.  
  
The silent response only seemed to annoy the advisor, and a hint of exasperation trickled into his words. “ _State_ your names and unit affiliations.”   
  
The change in tone was strong enough that no one wanted to chance their luck any further. One by one, each of the exorcists spoke, with Tiedoll and Marie speaking first.  
  
“Froi Tiedoll, Arcaian Unit.”  
  
“Noise Marie, Arcaian Unit.”  
  
It then got to Daisya, and there was a pause. But the guard sent Daisya a look, and the exorcist spoke. “Daisya Barry. No unit affiliation.”  
  
Kanda looked over at Daisya from his peripheral. He hadn’t missed the resistance in the way Daisya answered, but couldn’t focus on that – because now everyone was waiting for him to speak.  
  
Hesitation filled Kanda, and his eyes once more flickered over in Alma’s direction.  
  
Alma, who looked a bit anxious, slightly nodded his head – almost as though he were trying to urge Kanda on.   
  
Kanda exhaled, then turned his attention away. He spoke, words low but still audible enough that everyone would hear. “Yuu Kanda, Arcaian Unit.”  
  
The whole room somehow seemed to become even more silent, tense in the hush that seemed to pass over the hall. Kanda couldn’t say he was surprised though – he, Tiedoll, and Marie were the former Arcaian Unit, and he could only imagine the reputation they would have had among the other kingdoms by now.   
  
One of the other advisors – a woman – spoke, posing the question that likely everyone was thinking. “And you’re the one who was charged for treason two years ago, correct?”  
  
Kanda’s whole body went rigid, as a loathsome sensation filled his core. Had he his way, he would have not even answered; however, Kanda knew that such was not possible, and ignoring people would only worsen the situation. Jaw tight, he forced out a response. “Yes.”  
  
The advisor frowned, then shifted her focus over to the queen. As Kanda’s eyes dared to follow, he could see that Tricia wore a deeply contemplative expression, pensive and wary. Kanda could only imagine what thoughts may have been passing through the queen’s head, but he found himself uncertain of whether he truly wanted to know.  
  
Then, the queen spoke, again addressing Kanda. “And you were charged for the death of Noise Marie?” She asked, before her attention briefly flickered in Marie’s direction. “The same exorcist who is also present today?”  
  
Kanda paused, not entirely sure of where the direction of this interaction was now heading. However, he nodded his head. “Yes.”  
  
The first advisor spoke up again, as his eyes seemed to scrutinize the exorcists. “If this really is the same Noise Marie, I’d like a demonstration of his innocence. As confirmation of his identity.”  
  
Marie’s expression remained neutral, and the guard who had been near him stepped aside, allowing for Marie to do as needed.   Then, as he took his hand, the rings on his finger illuminated, extending out several threads forward onto the ground, the action causing several melodious vibrations to become audible throughout the hall.  
  
After a few seconds, Marie retracted his innocence, ending the demonstration.  
  
There were a few more whispers, faint and impossible to distinguish clearly. The advisor cleared his throat though, quieting them as he spoke over any lingering, whispered conversations. “There seems to be a conflict regarding the charge of murder then – though there is still the fact that you abandoned your duties as a unit, with one not even reporting to the council to be assigned.”  
  
To this, Tricia looked over at the advisor, her lips pressed together in a pensive expression. She took a breath, and spoke, as she turned to the exorcists. “What my advisor speaks is correct – those actions are still crimes,” She confirmed.   
  
As Tricia spoke these words, Kanda found himself unable to even look forward, as his stomach dropped. Damn it. Damn it, they were still getting _blamed_ -  
  
“However,” Tricia continued, as her attention briefly moved over to Alma, “A request was made to have those charges overturned. Given the events that have recently taken place with the attacks yesterday and what my son has told me, it is a request I do not find unreasonable.”  
  
Kanda stiffened, as surprise overtook him. He quickly looked back up, eyes resting on where Tricia was. Like the other exorcists, there was a look of wary confusion on his face.  
  
Tricia continued. “Unfortunately, since the charges were made in Arcaia I don’t have the power to dismiss them entirely. But I can make a proposal that the council re-opens the case so they may overturn the decision,” She explained. “Until then, you may remain in Engelus under my protection.”  
  
Kanda was still, as the shock remained, the words of the queen having yet to sink in. Had he heard wrong? Was the queen really going to _pardon_ the exorcists?   
  
The advisor spoke up again, this time addressing the guards. “The exorcists may be dismissed for the remainder of the meeting.”  
  
The guards nodded, before beginning to direct the exorcists out. The action seemed to snap Kanda back to reality, and he quickly turned, looking toward where Alma was – but he only managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the prince, before the guards escorted him out with the others.  
  


* * *

  
  
The next few hours passed by in a daze for Kanda.  
  
After the meeting, Lavi had slipped out after them. With Bookman handling recording the rest of the meeting, Lavi had been able to get away just long enough to better explain the situation to the exorcists, and about the meeting that had been taken place. After the chaos of the previous day, all of the royal advisors had come together to meet and discuss the events, with Alma having needed to be present upon having returned. It apparently had been a tedious affair, with the meeting beginning the previous evening and then continuing first thing the next morning. And among the topics, the subject of the rogue exorcists who had suddenly appeared to help inevitably came up.  
  
Naturally, there had been some debate over what was to be done about the exorcists, with some of the advisors initially pushing for them to be sent back to Arcaia. It was an outcome that Kanda honestly would have expected, but then Lavi told the exorcists what had happened: that Alma had made a plea for any charges to be dropped.  
  
_“Yeah,” Lavi had said, when the others questioned him. “Alma really made a case for you guys – it was actually really wild with how well he held up. He just upfront said you were all the reason he was alive and was able to return. Which, I’m pretty sure is why the queen was willing to consider it.”_  
  
Still – Kanda found himself difficult to accept this entirely. It was surreal, and almost felt as though it was a dream more than reality.  
  
Exhaling, Kanda glanced out the window. The exorcists had all been given more permanent rooms, in the same wing as where any other exorcists would stay. It felt strange, though; Kanda wasn’t all that comfortable staying in a castle room, and a part of him still struggled not to associate the experience back to when he was in Arcaia.  
  
Except…now _did_ seem different. Different enough.  
  
Another breath left him, though he had to be careful. He wounds still ached, with it only being evening. The sky had darkened as evening fell, and once again, Kanda found himself wondering about Alma. The day had passed, and not once had Kanda seen a hair of the prince since that meeting earlier. Lavi had mentioned that Alma would likely be tied up the rest of the day, but this was becoming ridiculous. And a bit worrisome – would Kanda just never get to talk to Alma again? The thought, although a bit extreme, still loomed; he wasn’t sure what Alma’s life was like as a royal, but the more Kanda thought about it, the more he wondered if it was unrealistic he was still clinging to the desire to see Alma again.  
  
_‘Stupid,’_ Kanda thought, as he tried to snap himself out of it. He needed to focus on other things – like this proposal that was apparently going to go to the council. Honestly, Kanda wasn’t sure how hopeful he felt regarding that – what if it only made things worse somehow?  
  
There was a knock at the door, and Kanda felt his nerves twitch. A few times several staff had come to see if Kanda was getting situated – though he had no idea why the check-in’s were necessary. It had quickly started to grate on Kanda, and more than anything he was grouchy and tired and wanted to be _alone_. So much had happened that Kanda just needed time to process – which, he couldn’t do if some damned staff person was constantly checking on him.  
  
Exasperated and annoyed Kanda went to the door, and flung it open, ready to harp on whoever it was outside.  
  
He was abruptly caught off guard as his eyes immediately landed on Alma, who was standing outside in the hall.  
  
A slightly dumbfounded expression appearing on his face, Kanda tried to speak. “Alma-“ He started, though he was cut off as the prince flung himself onto Kanda, wrapping his arms around the exorcist.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Alma apologized, as he continued to hug Kanda for a few seconds longer. He then stepped back, eyes genuinely regretful. “I wanted to come sooner, because you were in the infirmary, and just, I kept getting held up by _everything,_ and then my mother-“  
  
Kanda shook his head, as he could see Alma was already spiraling into a rush of apologetic excuses. “It’s fine,” Kanda said, a bit stiff and stunned by everything still. He then looked off to the side, somewhat awkwardly. “Did…you want to come in?”  
  
Alma paused, then nodded his head quickly. Kanda stepped out of the way, allowing for the prince to come inside, and the door was shut behind him.  
  
Once alone, Alma turned to Kanda, and then averted his gaze. “I’m…I’m sorry about that meeting earlier. I wanted to tell you guys beforehand, so you wouldn’t get worried, but…I couldn’t exactly leave…”  
  
Alma trailed off, as he rubbed his arm. Then, somewhat hesitantly, he looked at Kanda. As soon as he met Kanda’s gaze, Alma looked down though, almost as though he couldn’t handle looking Kanda in the eye. “I know I should have asked before getting the council involved, but….Yuu, some of the advisors mentioned sending you guys back to Arcaia, and I couldn’t let them _do that_.”  
  
There was an emotional edge to the way Alma spoke, and Kanda quickly walked over to him. “Hey,” Kanda spoke, words firm. He placed his hands on Alma’s shoulders. “Hey, don’t…don’t apologize for that. It’s…”  
  
Now, it was Kanda who trailed off, as he found himself unable to even comment on the issue. Truthfully, it was still something of a shock, and he had yet to wrap his head around what had happened.  
  
Alma looked up, eyes meeting Kanda’s. Then, he leaned his, face moving downward. “I know it’s not fixing everything. Not yet, and I know you and the others may not want to stay here, but…I spoke with my mother. She meant what she said, and even Suman is being let go,” Alma explained. Then, in a quieter voice, he added. “I…told her about Sheril…”  
  
Kanda pulled back at this, though his hands remained on Alma’s shoulders. He looked at the prince with questioning eyes. “What…how did she even react? To…you know…” Kanda asked, question coming out in a low, wary mumble.  
  
Alma looked up, and a slightly uneasy look flickered in his eyes. “She…was pretty shocked. I was worried she wouldn’t believe me at first to be honest,” He explained, before moving his eyes to meet Kanda’s. “I told her you saved me though. When Sheril attacked me before disappearing.”  
  
As Alma mentioned this, Kanda’s mind flickered to earlier, and he looked away, gaze darkening. “What do you think will happen with Arcaia? Now that Sheril’s…disappeared.”  
  
Alma frowned, and also looked off to the side. “I’m…not sure. Road disappeared too, apparently. The council will be notified, but I don’t really know what’ll happen after…”  
  
While speaking, there was a slight tremor in Alma’s words. Sheril. Road. They had disappeared, and there was no telling where they were. Or if they would come back – and the thought alone was frightening.  
  
Kanda noticed this, and very gently squeezed Alma’s shoulders. Alma turned, and his bright eyes met Kanda’s.  
  
A few beats passed, and their gazes remained locked.  
  
Heart speeding up a little, Alma glanced away, as his cheeks warmed when he realized he was staring. “Um,” Alma said, words soft. “Is…the room okay? I can see if there’s another one available if you don’t like it-“  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Alma stopped, and looked back. As he did this, Kanda leaned in, and pressed his forehead against Alma’s. Neither of them moved, and Kanda spoke, voice low. “Stop worrying so much about everything,” He said. “I don’t mind the room…or being here since…”  
  
Again, Kanda trailed off. He trailed off, but the thought he had intended to speak threatened to trickle forward, a quiet murmur as it left his lips. “Since…you’re here…”  
  
Alma looked, somewhat caught off guard. The words, although spoken softly, were clear enough that they rang in his ears, and as his cheeks were colored with a faint blush his heart seemed to thud in his chest loudly.  
  
Gently, Alma moved his arms, taking his hands and placing them on Kanda’s upper arms. He gingerly pressed his fingers down, gripping at Kanda’s sleeves.           
  
A few seconds passed, and their foreheads remained pressed against each other. Then, Alma moved, brushing his nose gently against Kanda’s before he leaned in, their cheeks grazing against one another briefly as Alma continued to hold onto Kanda.  
  
As Alma did this, Kanda shifted his grasp. His hands, which had been on the prince’s shoulders, moved, and traced down Alma’s back. They stopped once they reached the waist, where Kanda held Alma carefully, and pulled him in closer.  
  
Shifting his face, Kanda then nudged the side of Alma’s. Alma turned, and once again, their noses touched for a small, fleeting second, before their eyes became half-lidded, and their faces changed in angles. Then, very carefully, their lips brushed against one another, as they fell into a soft, delicate kiss.  
  
It didn’t last long, but it was a sweet sensation. As it drew to an end, Kanda placed a hand on the back of Alma’s head, and ran his hand through the prince’s hair.  
  
Silence fell between them after that, as they held each other in comfort. Somehow, there was no need for words at that point; there was only the need and desire for each other’s presence, which they had. They had that, and they had each other.  
  
And somehow, it would be enough. It would be enough to get them through whatever was yet to come.  
  
That was all they could ask for.                            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOO AND THERE IT IS.
> 
> Granted, there is //still// an epilogue. This AU was a beast to try to wrap up, and there was no easy way to do it. Because of how layered everything got and the amount of characters it involved, this could have been dragged out a few chapters - but it was way too much, so I tried to condense it to what was more necessary? (Especially since...hell, this AU already got way longer than anticipated).
> 
> The main people I wanted to focus on were Alma, Tricia, Kanda, and the exorcists (with the exception of Suman - I ended up not exploring him as much here, but he will be seen in the epilogue, so people know how he’s doing). 
> 
> I definitely wanted to focus on some Alma and Tricia, because I always planned to reunite them (just...let them be happy?). Tricia has been through hell in her own way, and the news of what Sheril’s done isn’t something that will sit well with her. I didn’t focus on that too much, since I more wanted to focus on her relationship with Alma and that rekindled mother-child relationship - which, definitely contributed to her willing to hear Alma out when it came to sparing the other exorcists. To me, it’s pretty damn believable that she would believe her son, and also have that gratitude for them bringing her son home.”
> 
> Kanda, I felt badly for most of this chapter though. I think I had secondhand anxiety from writing his parts? He was literally in a terrible situation with not knowing what’s going on (plus the immense awkwardness of stabbing your royal love interest’s evil stepfather, and then having the mother summon you? Freakin terrifying and awkward). It also was really stressful to write the meeting, but I think I handled it as well as I could. Again, it could have been dragged out, and like any legal process, it’ll take a while to clear things up - hence, why the epilogue will take place about six months later when you read that.
> 
> But, until the epilogue, you all get the reassurance that the other exorcists are being protected in Engelus, and in the meantime, Alma and Kanda will be mmmm moving in that direction. ;3 (As a head’s up, there IS a one shot I will be posting after the epilogue for this AU. It’ll be NSFW, but will somewhat explore how Alma and Kanda’s relationship progresses about mid-way between this “end” chapter and the epilogue)
> 
> Thank you thank you THANK YOU all for having read and supported me in writing this. It’s really been insane, especially considering I started working on this only back in June. But this has definitely been one of my favorite things to work on ever. <3
> 
> Keep your eyes out for the epilogue! ;D


	29. Epilogue: Seed of Hope

_Crack._  
  
The whip lashed out, striking against the ground. Klaud never held back in the force she used; she never wavered, and she never went easy. It was an element that made her a valuable fighter: one with resilience, and fierce resolve. All of these qualities were what made her a well-equipped general.  
  
A well-equipped general, and a _terrifying_ instructor.  
  
Daisya moved quickly, cursing under his breath as he kicked his innocence. The silver bell-like ball moved, zooming out as it went for Klaud’s grip on the whip. However, the general somehow seemed to anticipate the attack, and she pulled back, swiftly cracking the whip so it ricocheted the ball back toward Daisya.  
  
Another slew of low curses. “Fucking _shit_ -!” Daisya griped. Normally, he would have loved a challenge – he would have loved the excitement. However, he didn’t love nearly dying every training session. And he was pretty sure that was what the general was attempting to cause.  
  
Retracting the ball, Daisya turned. He had been going against Klaud in the training room, but off to the side Tiedoll and Marie were watching. “Tiedoll, she’s going to _kill me_!” Daisya shouted, before having to again jump out of the way to avoid one of Klaud’s whip attacks.  
  
“If this were a battle, you’d be dead, Daisya!” Klaud snapped, as she once more cracked the whip – this time incredibly close to one of Daisya’s legs.  
  
Tiedoll only watched, as a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. “She’s only being thorough!” He called back good-naturedly.  
  
“She really doesn’t hold back…” Marie observed, with a hint of interest in his words.  
  
“Mm. She doesn’t. It’s impressive how she strikes such fear without even using her innocence,” Tiedoll commented. “Though I do hope she doesn’t kill Daisya. He’s like a son to me.”  
  
Marie’s lips quirked upward at this. The comment was nothing out of the ordinary for Tiedoll; he often seemed to take on a fatherly role to Daisya. To Daisya and Kanda.  
  
As his thoughts flickered to Kanda, Marie’s expression shifted, becoming a bit more contemplative. “I hadn’t heard from Kanda yet today. Was he training?”  
  
Tiedoll answered, already having a response. “Ah, he trained earlier. He’s been a bit restless the past week,” Tiedoll explained, as a small sigh escaped him. “It’s understandable. The council hasn’t decided on where to place us yet, and Alma has been gone the last few days to Lyons for that meeting. I think Kanda gets a little anxiety whenever Alma leaves.”  
  
Marie didn’t say anything to this, but he understood. What Tiedoll was saying was no news to him, and really, all of the exorcists were a bit on edge. It had been almost six months since the akuma attacks on the castle, and since Queen Tricia had started the process to have the rulings from Arcaia overturned by the council. It had ended up being an incredibly long and tedious process, with the first four months being the worst. During that time, there had been intensive scrutiny regarding what had happened, and what the actual truth was. Multiple hearings had needed to take place in order to appease all of the council members.  
  
It didn’t help that during this time, Sheril Kamelot remained missing.  
  
The tension had not disappeared, and if anything, had worsened for a bit. There was a strong wave of opposition to the request that Alma had brought forward to have the case from Arcaia re-opened, and resistance to Tricia’s assistance in it. For a while, things had looked grim, and it wasn’t until weeks and weeks of arguing and explanations that any progress was made in favor of the exorcists. Eventually, the council was finally willing to accept that the allegations had been falsified for more ominous reasons in Arcaia.  
  
This had made things more complicated.  
  
The immediate question was what to do with the few exorcists who had originally been charged for treason, and where to re-place them. It was a problem that was more difficult to resolve than it should have been, with there being hesitancy over sending the exorcists back to Arcaia: a kingdom that was now being heavily investigated, but was otherwise still soured from the incident several years ago. With this in mind, all kingdoms were then needed to be re-evaluated in terms of exorcists units, where shortages were, etc.  
  
It was a process that everyone was hoping would end soon – even to the point of quiet desperation. There was the slight security of being in Engelus, but that was more or less temporary, and a political bandaid at best.  
  
As Marie reflected on these things, he spoke again, words quiet. “Do you think that they’ll have decided anything?” He asked Tiedoll, referring to the possibility of the council having come to a consensus.  
  
Tiedoll didn’t answer right away, but his eyes were pensive. “It’s possible,” He finally answered, though his words held a note of hesitation. “It would certainly be nice for us to know what to expect. But as of now we can only hope for the best, and prepare for anything…”  
  
Another _crack_ splintered into the air, as Klaud and Daisya continued the training session. Tiedoll’s attention shifted over to them, as he watched the other general continue with her session. “I don’t think any of us would be opposed to staying here, though I’m not sure how likely that’ll be. It’ll just depend on whatever the council decides.”  
  
Marie remained quiet at this, as he knew that Tiedoll was right. Deep down, he found himself hopeful though – that maybe for once, something good would come their way.  
  


* * *

  
  
The carriage arrived in Engelus mid-afternoon. The sky was clear, and bright as it promised of a warm spring despite the slightly cool dampness of the air. April had brought many showers already, with the rain quenching the earth’s thirst and the soil moist as fresh greenery began to sprout, bringing buds and flowers to life after a long, wintry slumber.   
  
Alma had kept the window open, with the curtain pulled back so he could look outside on the trip back to Engelus. He enjoyed the fresh, fragrant smell of early spring, and the colors that were beginning to blossom amongst the earth. The winter had been cold, and white with snow; it had been a longer period that was at times stressful and tedious to endure. But, spring was coming, and for that Alma was relieved.  
  
Across from Alma, Lavi was seated. The Bookman had come back with Alma, escorting him on the return from Lyons after having been present at the last meeting to help Bookman record it. Bookman had no had a need to return to Engelus though, so Lavi had come on his own, with the intent to return to Lyons a few days later.  
  
“So,” Lavi said, as the carriage finally began to reach its destination. “Glad to have it all over with?”  
  
Alma turned, and looked at Lavi. He smiled. “Yeah,” He admitted, as the relief seemed to spill into his voice. “I feel like I’ve been gone so much lately. It’ll be nice not to have to leave for a while.”  
  
“It’s sure been a hell of a process,” Lavi commented, as he leaned back in his seat. “Seriously – dealing with Lvellier and Sahlins in the same room has to be one of the biggest pains imaginable. They’re stiffer than two wooden planks frozen in a block of ice.”  
  
Alma laughed at this, not even bothering to contain his amusement. He couldn’t argue, though. “That sounds….accurate,” Alma admitted, his eyes glimmering with an edge of humor. “You’re probably looking forward to going back to Lyons in a few days.”  
  
Lavi grimaced. “Ugh. Rub it in, why don’t you?”   
  
The amusement remained in Alma’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, his attention swayed back to the window, where he could see that they were passing through the city and making it back to the castle.  
  
Lavi noticed this, and spoke. “You going to tell Kanda when we get back?”  
  
Alma turned, and nodded. “I want to tell him first thing,” Alma said. As he spoke, there was a slightly excitable tremor to his tone, and his eyes were bright. “I know he’s been kind of tense over everything, and I really want to tell him before anyone else does.”  
  
“Hey, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Lavi commented. “The others will too.”  
  
A smile appeared on Alma’s face. “I hope so,” Alma said. There was still a hint of excitement in his voice, but also something a bit nervous. Hesitant, even.   
  
Lavi glanced over at Alma,a somewhat curious look gleaming in his one good eye. “What, you worried about something? I mean, I doubt any of them really would want to go back to Arcaia after all that’s happened. Even if Sheril is still missing.”  
  
At this, Alma quieted, and he looked off to the side. Sheril was never a pleasant topic, and it was hard for anyone to be sure of what had happened the day he had…disappeared. Road, too – it was almost as though they had simply vanished without a trace, and even when CROWs were sent to Arcaia to investigate nothing was found.  
  
“Kind of freaky really…” Lavi said, voice shifting a bit in tone. “It’s like they just fell off the face of the earth. Now this Tyki Mikk guy is representing the Campbells? It’s just weird.”  
  
Alma remained wordless, opting not to comment right away. Tyki Mikk. He was another noble from Arcaia, one who was apparently closely tied to the royal family in a similar was that the Kamelots were. Alma had seen him at the meetings that he had needed to go to in Lyons, and seen the smooth, refined way in which Tyki carried himself. In some ways, something about the noble reminded Alma of Sheril.  
  
It was for this reason, that Alma always avoided Tyki at those meetings. Always.  
  
“They still haven’t found anything in Arcaia…” Alma finally spoke, words both soft and contemplative.  
  
Lavi frowned. “Nothing concrete…but based off the account you gave, and everything that happened, it’s sounding more and more like…”  
  
The Bookman trailed off, and Alma could feel himself tense a bit. He knew perfectly well where Lavi had been going.  
  
_The Noah._  
  
Alma repressed a shiver. The Noah. They had been brought up in a few meetings, though the council had been loath to accept that the strange, enigmatic group might have finally begun to re-emerge. It was hard to confirm such a thing too, considering that no hard evidence had been provided save for what Alma had experience and the Bookmen and other exorcists had witnessed.  
  
Either way, precautions were being taken. The Noah were not a threat to be taken lightly, and already Arcaia was being heavily examined for any infiltrations into the noble families.  
  
“Did he say anything to you?”  
  
Alma turned back to Lavi, eyes questioning. “What?”  
  
Lavi’s expression remained somewhat serious. “Sheril. You said he whispered that word to you, right before he disappeared. But that was it?”  
  
A pause, and Alma nodded. “Just that name, and that we’d….see each other again soon.   Whatever that means,” Alma said, as another shiver tickled at his shoulders. He hadn’t liked those last words spoken. They were too unsettling, and too nerve-wrecking.  
  
“Weird…” Lavi said, as he crossed one leg over the other, and slouched back. “Guess we’ll just have to be ready to welcome him with open arms whenever he gets the gall to show his face here again.”  
  
There was a dry, sarcastic edge to the way Lavi spoke. Alma was sure it had been an attempt at humor, even if in a somewhat cynical way. However, Alma was struggling to appreciate the attempt. Even with the good news that he was carrying back to Engelus, nothing could completely eradicate the mark that Sheril had left on him, or evaporate the chill that Alma felt each time he thought of his late stepfather. Nothing could eliminate the familiar tremor of unease, and nothing could ease the icy sensation that befell Alma every time he remembered that whispered name, faint and like a kiss of ice upon his ear.  
  
_“Desires.”_  
  
Alma didn’t understand what it meant. The Bookmen had of course tried to look into it, to see if they could trace the name somewhere – but there had not yet been any luck.  
  
If there had been anything found, no one had told Alma. And deep down, a part of Alma almost didn’t want to know.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The sound of the blade digging into the ground was soft, and rhythmic. A repetitive pattern that was lulling, the garden knife raked into the soil, as the scent of damp, soft earth blossomed into the air. It mixed in with the more floral fragrances that were beginning to spread and dance outward, coloring the air and making it sweet with pollen.  
  
Kanda paused, stopping as he got to the stems of a few flowers. They were bright, having already bloomed, with peculiar, tendril-like flower petals. Taking the garden knife, he dug into the soil around one that was of decent size, and began to uproot it.  
  
Suman watched. He was outside with Kanda, in the castle gardens – though they were in a somewhat more secluded part of it that was less visited. The gardens were so large to begin with that it was easy for some areas to become more isolated at times, even with the castle grounds people working to keep up with and maintain them.  
  
A slightly wary look remained in Suman’s eyes, as he eyed the flowering plant Kanda uprooted. “So I’m supposed to use that?” He asked.  
  
Kanda stood, having taken the blossom. He looked as though he was a bit annoyed by the question, and his response was gruff. “Wouldn’t have bothered to uproot it otherwise.”  
  
Suman didn’t say anything, but was still looking at the flower. His brow furrowed a bit. “It just looks weird…”  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes, before somewhat roughly shoving the plant into Suman’s grasp. “It’s bee balm,” Kanda grumbled, not entirely sure why Suman seemed to be so stuck on the flower’s appearance – it was _only_ a flower. “You said your kid is coughing a lot? Boil it and mix it with honey. That should help.”  
  
Taking the bee balm, Suman’s eyes flickered to Kanda’s. “Thanks,” He said. “The castle physician comes sometimes, but it’s like nothing ever seems to really help much…not permanently at least.”  
  
Kanda scoffed. “Just because he’s a castle physician doesn’t mean he actually knows what he’s doing…” He grumbled. Then, as he glanced back at Suman, he added, a bit awkwardly. “Um…let me know if it helps.”  
  
“Will do,” Suman replied. “I’m going back this evening, and can see if Anna will be able to use it to help Jaime then. Though I’m sure I’ll get hammered with questions about Alma – kid’s always asking when he’s going to visit next.”  
  
As Suman said this, Kanda’s eyes became distant, and he looked off to the side. Alma had been gone for nearly a week now – not really that long a time, but it felt like it.   
  
“You know when he’s coming back?”  
  
Kanda turned, and shrugged before looking away again. “Hell if I know…”  
  
Suman eyed Kanda, and for a moment, his own expression became contemplative. “Maybe he’ll have good news. He…really tries to help,” Suman said, as something twisted inside him. Likely a recollection of six months ago, when he had nearly been branded for treason. It was still something that weighed on Suman, regardless of the circumstances, and in many ways, Suman still considered himself accountable for letting things escalate to the level they did.  
  
Alma never held it against him though. Somehow, the prince was still able to treat Suman like an old friend, and to this day, Suman wasn’t sure how.  
  
Kanda didn’t say anything to this. Good news or not, he had learned never to hope for such things – no matter how badly he may have yearned for them. Even this life of being in Engelus had proven to have its faults, with some remaining tension lingering in the air. Not everyone had accepted the exorcists with ease, with many individuals clinging to past judgments and fears. It was at times tense, though Kanda supposed things had started to even out.   
  
Except now there was the uncertainty of what would happen to the exorcists, and if they would even be allowed to stay in Engelus – or if they would be sent somewhere else all together.   
  
Sensing that Kanda was no longer in as much of a talkative mood, Suman made a move to leave. “Thanks again,” He offered, words quiet.  
  
Kanda remained silent, even as Suman disappeared from sight.  
  
Once left alone, Kanda placed his focus elsewhere. Seeing the spot where the bee balm had been uprooted, Kanda knelt down, as he began to fill in the gap with soft soil. It didn’t take long; it was a quick enough process, and Kanda almost wished it had taken longer. He would need to find something else to distract himself with, but he was unwilling to leave the gardens. Kanda had already trained earlier, and while it never hurt to train more, he didn’t exactly want to be around anyone else – especially when he already knew the topics of conversation that were bound to arise. The council. What decision they may make. When Alma would return.  
  
A sting pinched at Kanda’s nerves, and he moved, going to check on a few other flowers that tended to bloom early spring. During the past few months, Kanda had been able to keep with gardening – a de-stressing past time that he was frankly relieved to still have.   It proved useful during the times of unease and disquietment that would periodically surface, and it gave Kanda something else to do with his time – something that wasn’t entirely centered around exorcist duties.  
  
Checking on some of the flowers, Kanda knelt down tried to focus intently, using this distraction to his advantage. But even with this attempt Kanda couldn’t ignore the pang of yearning he felt deep down, and the annoyingly brutal truth that continued to taunt his heart: he _missed_ Alma.  
  
A wave of frustration befell him, and Kanda exhaled in exasperation. He knew it was stupid to feel this way; it hadn’t actually been that long since Kanda last saw Alma, but the separation somehow wore on him. More than likely, it probably went back to how Kanda and Alma didn’t actually get to see each other that often ever. With everything getting so turned around in the last few months, and with Sheril being gone, Alma had needed to step into a more active role alongside with Queen Tricia. He still was training as an exorcist, but his responsibilities were split, and tended to break up a lot of his attention.  
  
It was expected though. Kanda wasn’t so naïve as to have anticipated otherwise, and he had things to take up his attention. But, the quiet longing remained. It remained, with an edge of foolish yearning. Foolish desire. Kanda had given in already too many times. Too many times of creeping into each others’ rooms at night. Too many times of swiftly catching one another in the hall when no one was looking.   
  
Those moments were too precious to give up, and Kanda couldn’t do it. Not willingly.  
  
_‘Focus,’_ Kanda told himself, as he tried to shake the thoughts from his head, before he stood to walk over to another area of the garden. However, he paused as he crossed through an area, were several reeds were beginning to sprout, which were a bit more isolated and cut off from some of the other flowers.  
  
Kanda stared. Even without having bloomed, he knew what they were – he had been the one to put them there.  
  
“Yuu!”  
  
The voice rang through, and for a second Kanda’s mind drew a blank as he registered the sweet familiarity. He turned, body reacting before his mind could adequately process anything, and the next thing Kanda knew someone had thrown their arms around him, hugging him tightly as they buried their face into the crook of his neck.  
  
_Alma._  
  
Kanda knew it was him before he even had a chance to look at the prince clearly. The warmth of Alma’s embrace was always distinctive, and the way in which Alma so closely latched on never seemed to differ. As every time Alma embraced Kanda, Kanda felt himself at a slight loss; these forms of contact were always so sudden, and oddly comforting, and Kanda never quite managed to get used to the way the physical contact somehow eased his thoughts.  
  
They eased his thoughts, and they brought him relief. They brought Kanda a relief he always forgot he was seeking.  
  
As Kanda’s thoughts turned and struggled to formulate into words, Alma pulled back, eyes bright and a smile on his face. Immediately, he jumped into speaking. “I missed you so much! Has your week been okay?” Alma asked, the words gushing out. “I just saw Suman – he said you were back here, and gave him something for Jaime? That was so nice! We should really go visit them sometime.”  
  
Kanda could feel his ears burn a bit, as Alma vocalized the compliment. He averted his gaze, and instead tried to focus on the suggestion Alma had posed. “Um…sure,” He mumbled, more so out of the fact he was still trying to ground himself after the surprise embrace.  
  
Thankfully, Kanda was able to somewhat compose himself, as he straightened his posture to look at Alma. “You just got back?”  
  
Alma nodded. “Yeah! Lavi and I made it back just a few minutes ago,” He said, before his tone shifted a bit, sounding a hair more thoughtful. “I wanted to let you know how things went.”  
  
Kanda grew alert at this, and his shoulders stiffened slightly. “What happened?”  
  
Alma looked at Kanda, and to Kanda’s surprise, Alma’s eyes seemed to hold a glimmer of excitement. “They’re not sending you back to Arcaia,” Alma said, lips stretching into a smile as he saw the look of surprise that colored Kanda’s features. “Or anywhere – they said you and the others could stay here!”  
  
Kanda stared. The words seemed to hit him like a gust of wind, and it took him a moment to let it sink it. During these last few months, he had worried. Kanda didn’t like to admit it, but he had worried about what would happen to him and the others – if they would be sent somewhere else, or sent to Arcaia. Kanda didn’t know the state of the other kingdoms’ units, or if Arcaia would have fought to keep a claim on them, and there had been an undercurrent of paranoia that just would not leave Kanda be. It wouldn’t let him sleep. Wouldn’t let him rest. Wouldn’t allow for himself to go a day without beating himself up over getting so close to Alma, because it could have just _ended-_  
  
Except now. Now Alma was saying it was okay. Alma actually had confirmation they wouldn’t have to leave.  
  
Alma watched, carefully looking to gage Kanda’s reaction. It must have been concerning though, because as Kanda remained silent Alma’s smile seemed to diminish, and a look of worry began to arise within his eyes. “Yuu,” Alma began to say, voice now more hesitant. “Yuu….are you okay? You’re not upset, are you?”  
  
The fear in Alma’s words trickled through, and it seemed to snap Kanda back into the present moment. “What?” He asked, the response coming out dumbly, as he wasn’t even sure as to what Alma was referring to.  
  
Unease still prominent, Alma wavered. He broke eye contact somewhat abruptly, as he looked off to the side. “It’s just…I know it’s not always perfect here. And with staying you guys would be integrated into Engelus’s unit,” Alma said, as he went into the circumstances of what the arrangement would be. “But I don’t…I don’t want you to feel trapped here, or like you have to stay-“  
  
There was a slight tremor – a worried one – that seemed to shake Alma’s speech. Hearing it, Kanda reacted immediately, and in one swift motion pulled Alma close. Without saying anything, he wrapped his arms around Alma tightly – almost as though he were dependent upon that embrace.  
  
A slightly startled look washed over Alma’s face, though he said nothing at first. His breath seemed to leave his chest though, as he felt Kanda’s arms, strong and secure, wrap around his body as though they were a shield. A warm, comforting shield.  
  
Kanda held Alma like that for a few moments: tightly, and unwilling to let go. His face pressed down, into Alma’s shoulder before he raised his head slightly. Their cheeks gently brushed against one another, and Kanda paused as his lips remained close to Alma’s ear. “You always worry so damn much…” Kanda murmured, words strangely gentle. “Of course I’m okay…”  
  
As these words melted into his ears, Alma visibly relaxed. Tenderly, he wrapped his arms around Kanda, and pressed his body close into the other exorcist’s. A small sigh escaped him, and a tiny, relieved smile tugged at his lips.  
  
For a moment, they remained like that. Neither of them said anything, and they simply held each other. Alma found himself relaxing even more as he felt Kanda’s hand moved along his back, while another clasped gingerly at the back of his head. Kanda’s fingers moved, running through Alma’s somewhat disheveled hair, and the sensation nearly caused Alma to close his eyes as he leaned against Kanda.  
  
It was after a few seconds longer that the scent of pollen began to tickle Alma’s nose, and he opened his eyes, glancing behind Kanda. His attention quickly landed on the stems sprouting upward, and a look of realization flickered in his gaze.  
  
“They’re starting to sprout already!” Alma exclaimed excitably, as he broke away from the embrace. Like an eager child, he ran over to the area with the sprouts and knelt down to get a better look, as his eyes seemed to light up even more. “This is the same lavender you planted, right?”  
  
Kanda watched for a second, as Alma looked over the sprouts and chattered on enthusiastically. As the prince did this, Kanda’s eyes remained on him, and a soft fondness filled the exorcist’s gaze.  
  
Walking over, Kanda stopped just beside Alma, and glanced down toward the sprouts. “They won’t flower for a while. Not until late summer,” He explained.  
  
Alma turned, and looked back at Kanda. The smile never once left his face, nor did the sparkle in his eyes as he spoke, words affectionate in their playful nature. “But now that you don’t have to leave, you’ll be able to watch them bloom with me, right?”  
  
Faintly, a hint of a smile appeared on Kanda’s face. “Yeah,” He said quietly.  
  
Alma’s smile remained, and he turned back to look at the lavender sprouts. While doing so, Kanda knelt down beside him.  
  
“Hey,” Kanda said, voice low and gentle.   
  
As Kanda spoke, Alma turned, a somewhat questioning look in his eyes. Alma paused as he felt Kanda’s hand cup the side of his face, with a touch that was strikingly delicate and careful in its hold. Freezing a bit, Alma could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his breath still.  
  
Rubbing his thumb over Alma’s cheek, Kanda held Alma’s gaze, as he stared into the prince’s eyes. He remained like that for a moment, as he took in Alma’s features: the way Alma’s scar stretched across the bridge of his nose, the way his mouth was slightly parted. Kanda wanted to take in everything, and to cherish everything – because everything about Alma was meant to be cherished. Everything was worth remembering.  
  
A flood of warmth seemed to blossom within his chest, and Kanda leaned in at that point, careful and slow as his lips brushed against Alma’s. He continued to cup the side of Alma’s face, and Alma sighed into the kiss, bringing his own hand to rest on top of Kanda’s.  
  
After a second, Kanda broke away. He continued to keep his hand steady though as his fingers brushed against Alma’s cheek. Their noses remained close, tips touching as their eyes were half-lidded.  
  
“I’m glad you’re back…” Kanda murmured, words almost inaudible.   
  
Alma’s focus remained a bit downcast, but his smile remained. Gently, he squeezed Kanda’s hand.   
  
“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //And they lived happily ever after stars damn it.//
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed the epilogue - it’s really insane to think I’m already getting it posted, but I can honestly say I’m really happy with how it turned out. I know not /everything/ was resolved with the Noah and Arcaia, but this ending really feel the most appropriate? (And regardless of what happens with the Noah, Alma and Kanda are /definitely/ going to stay together in this - they’ll make it through.)
> 
> Ending with the lavender sprouts also just seemed fitting? Lotuses are significant, but for Alma and Kanda, lavender just...sort of became their flower in this? Which is fitting, considering lavender signifies devotion, royalty, innocence, and purity. (So many layered meanings there!)
> 
> I commented on this in my last set of notes (I think? XD I’m too lazy to look), but I am working on a one-shot for this AU that I’ll be getting up sometime in the near future. I also may do a few more one-shots from time to time (though for now I’m focusing on my next fairytale AU, which will hopefully be appearing soon >.>). I have a lot of ideas and headcanons for how things progress in this AU, and as always people are more than welcome to send asks on my tumblr (faeriexqueen)!
> 
> Thank you all once again for all the support you’ve given with reading, leaving comments/feedback, etc. It really has meant a lot, and this story has become really special to me. It got me through a really rough summer and autumn, so I really am happy to know others have enjoyed reading it!
> 
> <3 <3 <3


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